Whirlwind
by Lynse
Summary: Jake should be used to ominous predictions by now. Randy should know better than to blindly follow McFist. Adrien should think twice before sneaking away. And Danny really should've expected something like this when he got that phone call from Jake. Secret Quartet fic (also crosses with Randy Cunningham:9th Grade Ninja and Miraculous Ladybug)
1. Chapter 1

A/N: So, I had a tumblr request to write something for QueenofHearts7378's Secret Quartet crossover, featuring Danny Fenton, Jake Long, Randy Cunningham (Randy Cunningham:9th Grade Ninja), and Adrien Agreste (Miraculous Ladybug). I'm attempting to keep this short because if I don't it'll wind up longer than _Mirrored_.

Timeline: mid-late S2 for AD:JL, mid-late S2 for RC:9GN, pre-S2 for ML, late S3 for DP

For the purposes of this story, **Danny and Jake already know each other**. If you've read _Mirrored_ , please pretend this occurs after that. If you haven't, it's not necessary; that knowledge is all you're going to need. Also, **Gabriel Agreste is Hawk Moth** in this fic.

* * *

 _Thursday, 4:36 PM_

Jake picked up what looked like a jar of inky sludge and muttered to Fu, "Are you _sure_ this is what we need?"

"I don't pick the spell ingredients, kid," Fu replied. "Put it on my tab, will ya, Sabrina?"

"Sure thing," the vendor chirped, and Jake reluctantly put the jar in his pocket. If it broke in there, he'd have to say goodbye to this jacket. Basilisk venom wasn't exactly known for being easily washable.

While Fu and Sabrina chatted about some upcoming poker night—all the more reason for Jake not to get involved—Jake turned to see who else he recognized at the Magus Bazaar. They'd already been to visit Veronica, who seemed to be doing a steady business today, but there weren't too many vendors Jake knew personally. Most of them—

"Hi, Jake!"

He turned, spotting the speaker more by her enthusiastic waving than anything else. Sara skipped up to him, full of smiles, while Kara trailed in her wake. "Hey," he said as the Oracle twins stopped next to him, "how have you been?"

"Same as usual," Kara answered flatly.

"No more kidnapping attempts," giggled Sara. She bounced on her feet. "School's been great, too!" Her eyes flashed gold, and Jake's stomach sank as she added, "You'll be busier than us once the attacks begin."

"What attacks?" Jake asked, but Sara just shrugged and smiled.

"Don't get too worked up about it," Kara said. "You'll have friends to help you out."

He hadn't seen her eyes glow, but there was no doubt in her voice. They knew he worked with Trixie and Spud more often than Haley if he could help it, so if Kara had come out and said it, it had to be related to a vision. Which meant it probably wasn't as obvious as Trixie and Spud or Fu, but he only had so many friends, and only so many of those who actually knew about the magical world.

Unless someone else was about to find out.

He groaned. "Aw, man, that's just great." Just what he needed. More attacks, coming at what would probably be a very inconvenient time, and no idea who was behind them. Not that that was unusual, exactly, but if it was bad enough that Sara had seen it….

"Hey, girls," Fu said, and Jake realized he'd finished his conversation with Sabrina; she was already talking to another customer. "You keeping out of trouble?"

"Mm-hmm. Everything's been going smoothly for us!" Another flash of gold. "But you'll need to beware of the butterflies!"

Fu blinked, clearly not understanding the vision any better than Jake, and looked at Kara. "Any good news?"

"We'll call you if we get anything else," was their only reply, which meant _no_ in Jake's book. Not that that was fair. It wasn't like the twins could control their visions. "Come on," she said to her sister, and she dragged Sara away even as Sara's eyes glowed gold again and she shouted at them that they 'haven't fought anything like these monsters before, so it should be fun'.

Jake stared after them as they disappeared into the crowd until Fu said, "C'mon, kid. We better hit the books. This might be a tough one to crack."

"Aw, maaaan."

* * *

 _Friday, 11:27 AM_

Randy was regretting sneaking onto McFist's private jet.

When he'd heard Bash bragging about the huge party he was going to throw at his place while his parents were away, Randy had immediately assumed that McFist was going to check out something big for his next WND. It was always in Randy's best interests to derail any and all plans for Weapons of Ninja Destruction as soon as possible. That was why he'd cut class, suited up, and headed to McFist Industries on a recon mission.

He'd gotten there in time to see McFist boarding the jet, yakking away on his phone and ignoring everything else around him. There had been no time for reconnaissance; it had been all Randy could to do slip in before the door shut. He'd crammed himself into a cargo compartment and been there ever since.

It felt like it had been forever. He'd gone from uncomfortable to cramping to numb, and now he wasn't even sure if he'd be able to get out of here once they finally landed.

Which was unfortunate, because he was hungry _and_ he needed to pee.

If he'd known it was going to take this long, he'd have figured out a way to pull out the Nomicon and shloomp the time away.

Too late for that now.

Randy heard a chime and the distinct voice of a Robo-Ape say, "We are approaching our destination. Please prepare for landing."

There was no announcement of where that destination was, and he couldn't hear anything McFist or his wife was saying.

It occurred to Randy that he hadn't entirely thought this through.

Wherever he was, it definitely wasn't remotely close to Norrisville. Which meant he, the Ninja, had left Norrisville unprotected. And, okay, sure, he'd done that before, but only on school breaks, because it was harder for the Sorcerer to stank someone outside of the school. Probably not by much, considering how often he still hit the town, but at least the negativity wasn't right on top of him when the school was empty.

Except this time the school wasn't empty, and he'd just left Howard to cover for him, and he'd told Howard he'd be back by lunch at the latest.

That…definitely wasn't happening. For all he knew, he'd already missed it.

Randy's stomach dropped and his ears plugged as the jet changed altitude. He could feel the speed of the jet now—if there had been room for his body to move, it would have—and then there was a rough jolt. The engine noise cut a moment later."

"New York!" trilled Marci. "Oh, Hanni, I'm so glad you agreed to come. You'll love the show. All of Gabriel's work is exquisite."

"And expensive," Randy heard McFist mutter.

Marci continued on as if she hadn't heard, her voice fading away as they left the plane, and Randy slowly released the breath he'd been holding. He waited a few moments more and then rolled, pushing against the door until he tumbled out onto the floor of the plane. It felt good to stretch. Maybe he should just lie here for a few minutes and process the fact that he was in New York. _New York_. There was no way he'd get back to Norrisville in time if the town needed a Ninja.

And if he missed his ride back with McFist, he was totally shoobed.

Worse yet, if this trip had been Marci's idea, McFist probably wasn't even _here_ to look into any WND stuff. Viceroy didn't seem to be around, either. Which meant Randy had come for nothing.

"What are you doing here?"

Randy's stomach twisted, and he slowly raised his head. He'd forgotten about the Robo-Ape.

"You are not supposed to be here," the Robo-Ape said, looking down at him.

Randy willed his muscles to move.

They didn't.

"You are the Ninja," continued the Robo-Ape. "I must report this to McFist."

"Or," Randy said quickly, because his voice seemed to be the only part of his body reliably working right now, "you could just take me to him." Every limb felt filled with pins and needles right now, but he was counting on the fact that he'd be able to move before long.

The Robo-Ape considered this for a moment. "That is an acceptable solution." It reached out and picked him up by the back of the suit; he wondered briefly if this was what kittens felt like when they were being carried by the scruffs of their necks. He was pretty sure that actually happened. He'd never seen it, but—

The Robo-Ape started to move towards the exit. Unmasking him didn't seem to occur to the robot, which was good, because Randy wasn't sure he'd be able to stop him yet. A few more seconds, maybe.

Hopefully.

Randy managed to swing his right hand into his pocket. He had a Ninja Electro-Ball in there somewhere. Surely. If he could just— _There_.

"One more thing," Randy said as he pulled out the ball. "Can you hold this?" He didn't trust his aim at the moment.

The Robo-Ape, which probably hadn't been upgraded in a while, took the Ninja Electro-Ball. Electricity starting arcing out of it almost immediately, short-circuiting the robot, and Randy's hair would have stood up if it hadn't been for the Ninja Suit. When the last sparks died away, he reached up and pried his suit free from the robot's hand. If he left it intact, there was a chance McFist would just think Viceroy had messed up and the Robo-Ape had failed on its own.

It was a slim hope, but Randy picked up the spent Ninja Electro-Ball just in case and figured he'd get rid of it when he found a washroom that wasn't on board McFist's private jet. Although…he must still have food on here, and since Randy was alone, everything was fair game, right? McFist probably wouldn't notice.

Fifteen minutes later, Randy left the plane with an empty bladder, a partially-filled stomach, and pockets stuffed full of pretzels, nuts, and cookies. He was in some sort of hangar from the looks of it, and it would probably be a hike to wherever McFist was going. A show by some Gabriel guy, according to Marci. It shouldn't be too hard to find, even in New York.

Randy spared a moment to stare at what he could see of the skyline and appreciate that he was in _New York City_ , and then he headed away from the (private?) airport and toward civilization. He might get lost at some point, especially since he wasn't really sure where he was going, but that would be half the fun. This was going to be the cheese. Howard was going to be so jealous.

* * *

 _1:03 PM_

Preparations were endless; Adrien was convinced of that. He was supposed to be shadowing Nathalie right now, but he still wasn't used to the time change so he'd claimed he'd wanted time to rest. Not that he was particularly tired yet; that was going to come later. Right now, it just felt like he should be eating supper, not lunch, though if he didn't get some sleep, he would be exhausted by the time the show finally wrapped up tonight.

He supposed he shouldn't complain; one day was going to run into another all weekend, and his father wasn't likely to see their hotel room for more than a few hours any night. It felt wrong, somehow, to pay for an elaborate suite and not take the time to enjoy it, but the advantage was that Adrien had some privacy when he was inside like he was now, and that meant Plagg didn't have to hide for the entire weekend.

Plagg, who had already polished off his camembert, looked over to where Adrien was sprawled out on his bed. "Are you just going to lie there all day?"

"If I go out again," Adrien said, looking at Plagg from the corner of his eye, "the Gorilla will take me straight back to Nathalie."

"That's only if he sees you leave."

Adrien sat up. "Won't that cause a fuss, though? Chat Noir turning up in New York? Alya hadn't noticed anything the last time I checked the Ladyblog, but if she blogs about my disappearance and realizes I'm here…. Plagg, she _knows_ me. As Adrien. If anyone can put the pieces together, she can."

"Or Ladybug," Plagg pointed out, "since you warned her about this trip."

Adrien sighed. "Ladybug's different. And even if she's seen some of my work, she won't necessarily know Adrien Agreste was in New York at the same time Chat Noir showed up."

Plagg hummed. "You're still assuming people are actually going to notice Chat Noir's here in the first place."

"But won't they?"

"People never look up. You'd be surprised what they miss—or accept without blinking an eye if they do catch it. Besides, your English is fine, and you can swing by Chinatown if you want to work on your Chinese." Plagg yawned. "I'm tired of being cooped up in your bag and your pocket. Not counting this room, that's all I've seen for the last day and a half. At the very least, you can get me some more camembert."

Adrien laughed and got to his feet. "Let's see what we can find. Claws out!"

* * *

 _2:19 PM_

After a lot of pleading, Jake had gotten his mom to allow him to skip school on account of pressing dragon business. Unfortunately, Fu and Gramps hadn't gotten any farther than when he'd left them last night, which meant dragon business meant spending a lot of time reading books that didn't make a whole lot of sense. By this point, Jake was going cross-eyed. He was convinced he'd have been better off if he _had_ gone to school today.

"I'm pretty sure the only magical creature in the country even remotely related to butterflies is Mothman," Jake muttered as he slammed his book shut.

"This isn't him," Fu said as the chime went above the shop door. "It's not his style."

"How do you even—?"

"Marty has this friend," Fu started, and Jake stopped listening, because if Marty was involved, absolutely anything and everything was fair game. And Fu's story would be at least five minutes long, because anything relating to the grim reaper was—

"Jake!" called Gramps from the front of the shop.

Seizing on the excuse to get away from the books, Jake jumped to his feet and ducked into the front of the shop, careful to keep as much of the back hidden behind the curtain as possible. The only potential customer was a kid about his age, maybe a little older. Since no kid in their right mind would cut class just to spend their time in an electronics shop that was infamous for never making a sale, Jake figured he was dealing with a tourist. Which meant he wanted directions, which was why Gramps had called for him.

"Jake will help you," Gramps said. "Please excuse me; I must get something from the back."

The boy returned G's bow and actually thanked him in Chinese before turning to Jake. "I'm sorry for bothering you," he said, and it took Jake a second to place his accent as French. "Do you know where I can find a cheese shop?"

Jake stared at him. Why the heck had Gramps thought he might know about _cheese shops_? "Yo, no offence, man, but that's not exactly where you're gonna find the best scene, y'know? I can give you the down-low on way better places to hang if you're cool with that." He caught sight of the confusion on the boy's face and made a mental note to dial back the slang. "You don't want directions to the skate park or something? A good pizza place? Or, like, a flower shop if this is for a girl? I mean, I guess there's a grocery shop nearby if you really just want cheese…."

The boy smiled. "I promised a friend I'd get him some camembert."

Camembert. Right. Of course. Jake was _pretty_ sure he'd known that was a type of cheese.

"Let me just look this up for you," Jake said, heading over to the computer. He was searching for cheese shops when his phone beeped, and he frowned. "Just a sec," he said. Spud and Trixie knew where he was, and they were in class, so they wouldn't be texting him. As for his family, well, half of them were here, so…

Jake read the text message and blinked. _Don't let him leave._ It was from Fu. He sent back a question mark and set about—slowly—narrowing down the scope of shops that might possibly sell cheese and were remotely nearby. "Is this something you'd only find in a specialty cheese shop?" he asked, more to keep the kid talking than anything else.

He missed the kid's answer, mostly because his phone started to ring. He smiled apologetically. "I should really take this," he said, and then he picked it up. "Hello?"

" _It's his ring."_ Fu's voice. He must have gone into the back alley, since Jake couldn't hear him from the next room. _"The old man's checking on it now, but he thinks he recognized it."_

"He thinks he what now?" The question was out of Jake's mouth before he remembered the kid was standing about five feet from him. A quick glance confirmed that the boy was politely pretending to read G's advertisements, so Jake moved to the corner opposite the front desk. "Why?"

" _I'll fill you in later, but we're looking at some rare, powerful magic. Ancient stuff. I'm talking older than the existence of the Dragon Council. We only know of seven of these things in existence. That ain't just a kid you're dealing with."_

Aw, man, he could not catch a break. "So what am I supposed to do?" Then, in case the kid—magical creature disguised as a kid?—was listening, Jake added, "That's halfway across the city, yo. Can't it wait?"

" _Stall him till the old man comes back out front; we'll hit him with a potion, knock him out. He won't have time to react to that, and we'll have time to examine the ring. If we're wrong, I'll see what I can do to get my paws on a mind wipe potion. Some of the boys owe me one, and it'll be faster than brewing one myself."_

"But can't I just…y'know."

" _You don't dragon up in the blink of an eye, kid. And trust me, you don't wanna let him get the jump on you."_

Jake couldn't exactly ask what this ring let the boy do. "But what if I—?" He broke off, hearing the chime above the door, and jerked around in time to see the boy in question leaving. "Aw, man, I gotta go."

Jake shoved his phone into his pocket and ran outside, but the kid was nowhere in sight. It had barely been more than ten seconds, twenty tops, and he was just gone. If Jake had had an idea of where to look, _eye of the dragon_ might've helped, but he didn't, and _ear of the dragon_ was useless unless the kid was talking to himself because Jake didn't know anything else about him. He looped the building in his search and found Fu Dog still in the alley. Jake sighed. "The guy split. I don't know why. Why not wait around if he just wanted directions?"

"Might've been onto you. Us. You weren't exactly subtle on the phone." Fu moved back to the shop, and Jake followed him inside. "He probably wasn't here for directions. He might've been scouting us out if he'd had a suspicion. Destroying the Huntsclan didn't destroy any of the independent bounty hunters or collectors of magical items."

Jake grunted; being reminded of the Huntsclan—of _Rose_ —still hurt. "So what's the deal with his ring?"

Gramps was the one to answer, and he did this by pushing a book under Jake's nose. He ignored the words on the page in favour of the drawing, which showed an elaborate box split into seven coloured sections. Each section held one piece of jewellery, and the one in the middle had a ring. It looked different than the ring on the kid's hand—at least, Jake didn't remember seeing a paw print on it—but considering they were dealing with magic, that didn't mean anything. Too many things could change appearance.

"The Seven Miraculous," Gramps said, "were fashioned thousands of years ago. There are rumoured to be others, but no reliable author has been able to record them. Their existence remains a closely guarded secret even in the magical world. Each grants their wearer unique powers, and if used in tandem—"

"Yo, hold it, G. We think this guy had the ring, right? So what powers does he get from it? The ability to become a ghost?"

"It is known as the Ring of the Black Cat," Gramps replied. "It is associated with destruction."

"Of course it is," Jake muttered. He looked down at the picture again. If these things were associated with animals, then— "Wait, this brooch thing looks like—"

"A butterfly," confirmed Gramps grimly. "It grants the power of metamorphosis."

"It can change people? Into what?"

"Anything," said G.

"Great." No wonder Sara had told him to beware of the butterflies. He'd at least heard the superstition about black cats, although now he was pretty sure he knew where it came from. "I'm gonna need more help with this than usual, aren't I?" He groaned, trying to figure out how much danger he could comfortably drop Spud and Trixie into. Or Haley, for that matter. He needed more people like Gramps and Fu and Sun, who had been around the block a few times and could take a few hits.

Although….

"Kara said I'd have friends to help me out, right?" Jake said to Fu. "She did," he added when Fu didn't confirm immediately. "So why not call one of my friends? Danny might be up for it."

"The phantom kid?" Fu looked skeptical. "I thought he didn't like leaving his hometown haunt if he could help it."

"He'll do me a solid," Jake said. He thought so, anyway. Danny didn't owe him, exactly, but they were friends, and this sounded big. Big enough to warrant asking for help, at any rate. Jake knew Danny was good in a fight, which was going to be essential, and being a ghost—a half ghost—might help him avoid some of this destruction that they were obviously going to be facing very soon. "I'll call him."

* * *

 _2:32_ _PM_

After five blocks of jumping from rooftop to rooftop, Adrien had had enough. He stopped, pulled his claws in, and faced Plagg with crossed arms. "So why did we have to run out of there? It was rude. They seemed like nice people."

"It smelled funny."

Adrien frowned. "The shop? A little dusty, maybe, but not—"

"It smelled like stale magic," Plagg interrupted.

Adrien stared at him. "You're making that up."

"And sacrifice my camembert?" Plagg sounded incredulous. "No, that shop smelled like magic, and I got a bad feeling. I've learned to trust those feelings."

"Are you sure that's not just hunger? Or jet lag?"

"Trust me." It was something Plagg rarely asked, but he meant it when he did. "If you meddle too much in the magical world, you'll get mixed up in it."

"But you're magical! Doesn't that mean I'm _already_ mixed up in it?"

Plagg's tail flicked. "Different magic," he said simply. "That stuff? It's not the same as mine. Dig around too much there, and you might find yourself swallowing a truth potion and spilling all your secrets."

"That…that actually exists? Outside of stories?"

"Everything has a grain of truth to it," Plagg said dismissively. "These people might not be bad, but we shouldn't get involved unless we have to." More quietly, he added, "I don't want to lose you."

The possibility of losing Plagg hadn't occurred to Adrien. "You think they'd try to take you? Take my ring?"

"Hawk Moth isn't the only one who knows about the power of the Miraculous," was all Plagg said.

* * *

 _2:48 PM_

"Please," Danny begged. "Please, I swear I won't destroy it."

Frostbite didn't look convinced. "The Infi-Map is not meant to be used for trivial purposes, Great One."

Danny had skipped out of school when he'd gotten Jake's phone call, giving Sam and Tuck the heads up before finding Jazz and begging her to cover for him. She'd agreed—they'd all agreed—even though he knew she didn't entirely approve. Frankly, he didn't care. Jake wouldn't ask if he didn't think he needed to. The fact that he _had_ asked meant Danny couldn't turn him down.

The Infi-Map was the fastest way Danny could think of to get to New York. It could find a natural portal and get him to Jake in seconds—or at least a few minutes. That was way better than any other option Danny had, which included flying, stealing the Spectre Speeder, or absconding with the Ops Centre—and though using the jet and auto-Jack would be the faster than using the Spectre Speeder, that was the thing his parents were most likely to notice. He might be able to fly, too, but then he'd be exhausted by the time he got there, and it would take precious time even if he didn't get lost along the way. He _had_ to use the Infi-Map.

If Frostbite would let him.

"This isn't a trivial purpose," argued Danny. "I've been asked to help someone save their city. If he fails, the consequences are going to be felt across the country, and that's _bound_ to be reflected in the Ghost Zone. How can you call me the Great One if I can't even help the people who need it?"

"Our realms are mirrored, Great One, but smaller actions can be reflected differently."

Danny frowned. "Clockwork told me that when Pariah Dark reigned over the Ghost Zone, the Real World descended into the Dark Ages. It doesn't need to be exactly the same to be bad. If the Real World ends up under the thumb of another Pariah Dark…." He trailed off, hoping the implications would be enough to seal the deal.

Frostbite's expression didn't change, and Danny was about to give up hope when he said, "Just this once, Great One, I will entrust you with the Infi-Map. But I must come with you."

That…probably wouldn't fly with Jake. He didn't have the best experiences with ghosts, and Frostbite looked intimidating and had ice powers, which was sure to rub a fire-breathing dragon the wrong way. Danny settled for not saying anything. Frostbite took his silence to be agreement, which it wasn't, but Danny didn't correct him. He couldn't afford to right now. Frostbite unlocked the box, handed Danny the Infi-Map, and while he was locking the container again to ensure no one knew of the Infi-Map's absence, Danny whispered, "Take me to Jake Long."

He'd face the consequences later.

* * *

 _3:12 PM_

"Let me get this straight," Danny said slowly. He was still in ghost mode, sitting in the back of Canal Street Electronics at a desk beside Jake. The book Jake had been showing him was still open in front of them, for all the good it did. He might as well have gone with Fu to get snacks. He didn't think he was going to be able to do much to help here after all. "You think someone's in town to rob you guys or something, only you don't know his name, where to find him, or even what he looks like because apparently he can shapeshift?"

"We don't know that he can shapeshift," Jake corrected. "But we were told to beware of the butterflies, and, well, they can shapeshift. Well, they can transform you into something else, so same diff."

"Right. Beware the butterflies."

Jake didn't miss his flat tone. "Hey, when Sara says to beware the butterflies, she means it. Her visions always come true. It just might not mean what it sounds like."

Which was worse than no help at all, in Danny's opinion. "Except you think it's about this thing." He jabbed one finger at the picture in the book. "Because you saw a ring."

"The Ring of Destruction," Jake confirmed, tapping a line of text on the opposite page. "I mean, something's definitely up. Normal people do not move that fast. And he came in asking for directions to a cheese shop. How is that not an obvious lie?"

"Yeah, but why pick something so obvious if he's supposed to be good at this type of thing?"

"To make us think that he isn't?"

Danny sighed. "This guy doesn't sound like a ghost, which means I'm not going to be any help finding him."

"Fu's put out feelers. Someone's bound to have something useful for us. In the meantime, we need to have a game plan. Sara talked about attacks, and it sounded like they were coming sooner rather than later."

"And this destruction thing worries you as much as the shapeshifting thing."

"More than," Jake admitted quietly. "Shapeshifting I can get my head around. I can figure out how to fight that, you know? But destroying an entire building with a single touch is different."

An entire building…or a single person. Jake might not say it now, but Danny knew that's what he was thinking. He knew that was the real reason Jake had called him instead of someone else. If this guy could destroy anything he touched, Jake was going to have a hard time fighting him once the attacks started.

But Danny?

It was more than just the fact that the kid—shapeshifter, whatever he was—didn't know his face. It was more than the fact that he could pretend to be an ordinary human before attacking or use his invisibility to gain the upper hand. He could fight without being touched if he had to. He didn't have to stay out of reach but close enough to hit someone with a burst of flame. He was fast, but he didn't have to rely on dodging. Not when he had intangibility.

The best defence against fighting someone with a deadly touch was to be impossible to touch in the first place.

Danny just hoped this power of destruction couldn't somehow cut through intangibility, too.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Chances are I won't update something else before Christmas, so happy holidays everyone! Enjoy.

* * *

 _4:57 PM_

It had taken while, mostly because he'd gotten distracted by other things along the way, but Randy had finally figured out that this Gabriel show was a fashion show. That explained Marci's interest. He still had no proof that McFist wasn't doing a side deal, but it was looking less likely.

Randy had also figured out where the show was being held. He couldn't sneak in as Randy Cunningham, obviously; while no one looked twice at him while on the streets, they'd notice pretty quickly if he tried to step foot in a place like that. But as the Ninja, it would be less of a problem. Difficult, granted, more like sneaking into McFist Industries than the Museum of Silt, but definitely not impossible.

Masked with the Art of Disguise (which he was way better at now) and blending into the crowd, Randy waited. When he heard the security guards turning away someone at the door—not meeting the dress code or fake passes or something; Randy didn't try to keep it straight—he took the opportunity for what it was and slipped inside.

Roughly three minutes later, the screaming started.

About ten seconds after that, he was standing outside in the middle of the rapidly disappearing crowd and wondering how the cheese the Sorcerer had managed to stank someone in New York City when he was still trapped under Norrisville.

"I am so shoobed if this turns out to be the Sorceress," Randy muttered. She was not someone he wanted to tackle without allies, and Howard couldn't exactly hop on a plane to join him.

In all fairness, the monster attacking the fleeing crowd wasn't really the Sorcerer's—or the Sorceress's—usual style. It was a female, way less animalistic than he was used to, and still mostly human-sized. Also, fluent in English, which was helpful, because while monsters usually understood him just fine, people usually weren't much for talking once stanked. That typically made figuring out what had gotten to them harder.

"I am the Critic!" the monster announced. She didn't seem to be holding a weapon, unless you counted her clutch. Though considering Randy had been bludgeoned with Stevens's trombone before, the handbag should definitely count as a weapon. "So many of you don't deserve to be here. You're flawed, unworthy and unappreciative of true art. A quick critique will reveal those who truly live up to the proper standards." She turned, picking out some random victim in the crowd, but Randy was already running toward her. He didn't need to hear the rest of her spiel; he was used to doing this without spiels. She was about to attack, and he didn't need to know any more than that. He figured he'd start with a Ninja Electro-Ball, feel her out, and then—

"The Critic, eh? Good thing for me black's always in fashion."

Silence fell as the monster swivelled to meet—what _was_ that? Someone in a cat getup? What the juice was going on? Randy actually stopped to stare. What kind of shoob went around dressed like a black cat? Especially at some kind of fashion show?

"Chat Noir." The monster sounded surprised but pleased, though her smile was anything but pleasant. "If you wish to save these people, you'll have to give me your Miraculous."

Randy had no idea what that meant. He had no idea who Chat Noir was—well, okay, fine, he could figure that part out—or what was supposed to be so miraculous or why this monster was being so vocal. But he knew how the Sorcerer worked, and now that he got a closer look at this monster, she looked vaguely familiar. She seemed to be the woman in the business suit he'd passed earlier, only the colouring and cut of her suit had changed—he wasn't sure how; he just knew it looked different—and for some reason, maybe the silver and navy garb, she reminded him less of a monster who was ready to try to tear him apart limb by limb and more like, well, someone who fought with words. Like an actual critic. The glasses helped, though he couldn't remember if she'd had them before.

This was weird. He would freely admit that. She still looked human. But something about her had changed, and she'd been in the right mood earlier to be stanked—bitter, angry, sad, the whole nine yards—and the way she held onto her bag made him pretty sure that's where the Sorcerer's stank had settled.

Which meant, relatively speaking, his job was easy. A Ninja Scarf Snatch here, a Ninja Slice there—this time, any shoob could do it. He could probably do it with his eyes closed. The crowd had scattered, and with cat boy distracting her, even the stragglers had had time to run. Randy moved closer, vaulting over the queue barrier. No one stopped him, even though the Ninja belonged in Norrisville and not New York.

"He's not taking that deal," Randy hollered as he cleared the last rope divider. He flipped forward, ducking and rolling and coming up with a few Ninja Rings in hand; he didn't want cat boy to get caught with his Ninja Electro-Ball. He aimed and threw, shouting, "Ninja Ring! Ninja Ring! Ninja Ring!"

This time, it was cat boy's turn to stare at him—in awe, probably—and the monster moved, dodging the rings and pulling out—a pen? What did she expect to do with a _pen_?

Didn't matter. Good rule of thumb: get rid of anything the monster wanted to use as a weapon. Randy shot forward and grabbed his sword. He cut left, right, and left again. If he could just get—

Something _slammed_ into him.

Correction: he slammed into something.

Problem: there wasn't actually something there.

"Interfering where he's not wanted," the monster sneered, moving the pen as if jotting down notes. "Moving with reckless abandon and with no sense of a plan. Announcing attacks like an amateur but no doubt fancying himself a hero."

She looked down over her glasses at him, and Randy bristled. Or he tried. He actually just tried to move, but no dice on that. "What the cheese did you do?" At least he could talk. "And who're you calling an _amateur_? At least I'm not dressed up like a cat!"

Randy couldn't turn his head to look away from the monster, but he saw movement from the corner of his eye, and cat boy started to slowly circle behind the monster. Cat boy might be the real amateur—did he really think no one could see him or something?—but the least Randy could do was distract the monster. "I mean, look at the quality of my suit," he continued. "This is good workmanship, not some Halloween store special." Then, since even he could tell he was losing her, he added, "Can't you appreciate that, coming to a place like this?"

"You dare question _me_?" The monster actually laughed at him. "I am the Critic. I know more than any of these people. I certainly know more than you."

She started to advance, and cat boy finally moved. He grabbed a baton and split it into two, throwing one at the monster and one at Randy. Both hit. The one aimed at the monster didn't do any more than draw her attention—so what was the point of Randy trying to distract her?—and, because he couldn't move, the one aimed at him took him in the gut. But it pushed him back, and suddenly he _could_ move again. Presumably because the monster was distracted?

Cat boy had retrieved the first baton, and he held it like he was ready to throw it again. "You'll have to do better than that if you want my Miraculous."

"Will I?" the monster laughed as if she understood what cat boy was talking about. Personally, Randy had no clue why they would even know each other, but obviously they did, and this miraculous whatever-it-was might even be the reason the woman was stanked.

Even though cat boy wasn't really acting like he'd stolen it from her. After all, he was still hanging around, and Randy was pretty sure any smart thief would be long gone. They wouldn't be trying to pick a fight with someone they'd just robbed. And then there was the fact that both cat boy and the monster kept saying it was _cat boy's_ miraculous…thing, only the monster wanted it. And jealousy was a legit reason to be stanked, too, so Randy couldn't rule that out. It just made things harder. He was pretty sure the monster wouldn't be appeased if he presented her with a bouquet of flowers.

"You're a fool, Chat Noir," the monster continued. She started to move her pen again, as if she were writing a new list. "Your little partner isn't here, and you're helpless without her. You are hardly a problem solver. You're in over your head, bumbling about a foreign country and failing miserably at being anything more than an annoyance. What you need—" and here she clicked her pen and leaned forward "—is to give me your Miraculous. That's the first step to improving your situation."

Cat boy jerked forward as if he were being pushed toward the monster, his feet stumbling nearer even as he tried to dig his heels in. Randy didn't have time to try to figure this out anymore. Critic monster lady might not like it, but he did reckless abandon well, and plans always went off the rails sooner rather than later anyway. He picked up the baton—good quality, judging by its heft—and got to his feet. If the monster didn't want him announcing his attacks, fine. He'd show her.

He took five steps to the right, just enough to get a clear line of sight, and threw the baton with an accuracy he'd honed over the past year of fighting in Norrisville. The baton struck the monster's hand. She dropped her pen with a shriek, but Randy was ready. He snatched it out of the air with his scarf before she had a chance to turn. He grinned at her. "Who says he doesn't have a partner?" And then, even as she started toward him and cat boy's eyes widened and he yelled something, Randy snapped the pen in half.

He'd been expecting a swirl of stank to leave the pen.

He was not expecting a purple butterfly.

Cat boy said something else—Randy was pretty sure it wasn't English—and then he'd grabbed the other half of his baton, attached it to the first part, and extended the thing _way_ past what should have been possible, vaulting to the roof of the building in pursuit of the butterfly. Randy just stared after him as he disappeared, wondering what that was all about. He glanced back at the monster, half expecting the snapped pen to have done nothing after all, but all he saw was an ordinary woman who had fallen to her knees in a daze.

"What…what happened?"

Frankly, Randy wasn't sure he knew anymore.

The woman's eyes focused on him. He saw her confusion and—unfortunately—her distaste. "Why are you dressed as a _ninja_?"

Randy rolled his eyes. "Everyone's a critic," he muttered.

He didn't bother announcing the smoke bomb as he used its cover to escape.

* * *

 _5:24 PM_

"You're _sure_ it's okay to do this without being invisible?" Danny asked as he and Jake—who was in his dragon form—flew over the skyscrapers of the NYC.

"Man, I keep telling you, people do not look up. And if they do, they just think they're seeing things. It's cool."

"So that Rotwood guy isn't still on your tail?"

"Please, you really think he can catch the Am Drag? At least give me a _little_ cred, Phantom."

"I thought he caught you before."

"And I escaped. With some help. Doesn't matter now, anyway. We've worked together since then. So long as he thinks he can use me to get info on the magical world, he'll let it slide. He's had too many close calls with the police to risk being accused of kidnapping me, anyway."

Danny, who was too used to Vlad and his tricks to judge, decided to let that drop. He couldn't see much from up here—his eyes were good, but Jake's were definitely better—and wasn't entirely sure where they were going. Jake did; he'd heard a possible location from Fu who had heard from Marty who had heard from a friend who had heard from a pair of leprechauns on the run from the guild. Or something like that. Danny had really stopped listening after hearing Marty's name. Knowing the Grim Reaper was real still sent shivers up his spine.

Jake dived before Danny was expecting, and he almost overshot him. Jake had dropped without a word, so Danny didn't shout after him; he just followed. When he caught up to the dragon, he moved carefully between his wings and put a hand between Jake's shoulder blades, making them both invisible.

It took another second or two for Danny to spot what Jake had seen. Someone was racing across the rooftop of some building—Jake might recognize it; Danny didn't—and, as Danny watched, using a silver stick like they were about to pole vault over something, getting more height and distance and easily making it to the next building.

"You think that's your guy?" Danny asked as Jake slowed and evened out, watching and content to keep pace with the runner for the moment.

"Maybe?" The lack of confidence in Jake's voice wasn't inspiring. "He's got the same colour of hair."

"Is he supposed to be dressed like a cat?"

"Well, it _is_ the Ring of the Black Cat…."

"Can you see what he's running from?"

Jake was quiet for a moment. "I don't think he's running from something. I think he's chasing something."

"Chasing what?"

"A butterfly." Danny looked, but he didn't see anything, even after Jake added, "It's dark purple." As if that would stand out against the buildings.

"Why would he be chasing after butterflies? Even if it _is_ this shapeshifting butterfly you were talking about."

"Maybe he accidentally released it and needs to get it back?"

Danny snorted. "How incompetent do you think this guy is?"

"Hey, he came into an electronics store to ask where to find a cheese shop. He's either new to this and really bad at it or trying to trick us into thinking he is."

Danny couldn't exactly deny that. "And you're _sure_ you don't know what his endgame is?"

"You've been in the back room of the shop, Phantom. _Anything_ could be back there. If he's looking for something we might have, that's a great place to start. And this…this is probably just to distract us."

"Which is why we're not getting any closer?"

Jake's muscles moved beneath his fingers, and they glided nearer to their target, though they still remained out of earshot, especially considering how noisy the traffic was below. Was it always rush hour here? Danny didn't remember it being this bad last time. Maybe because he hadn't gotten out much. Or maybe because, once his dad had shown up, it genuinely hadn't been as bad. Could also just be a different part of the city, though. The NYC was a sight bigger than Amity Park and Elmerton combined.

"I don't know if we can actually fight him yet. You heard Fu: keep an eye on him but keep our heads down unless things go south. He's trying to come up with something that'll actually be able to hold this guy—or at least slow him down."

"How about identifying him? Tracking him? If you guys don't have something, can't you steal something from Rotwood? He's probably got bugs. Or some kind of spell."

"If Rotwood has a spell, it doesn't work. Trust me on that. And I'm not convinced any bugs he has are electronic. It doesn't seem to go well for him whenever he tries that."

Somehow, Danny had no trouble believing that. Rotwood definitely hadn't changed, then, or gotten help. Just as well, for Jake's sake.

"Besides," Jake added, "for all we know, this guy's good at spotting that kind of stuff. It wouldn't take him much to get rid of it."

True enough. Jake hardly knew anything about him at all. Most of this was guesswork, plus whatever information could be gleaned from the grapevine of the magical world, and Danny had no idea how reliable that was. Probably not as much as Jake hoped, at least judging by how things went in the Ghost Zone.

Still, Marty's friend's tip had been right. The cat suit and the butterfly couldn't be a coincidence. Which meant someone who could destroy anything with a single touch was running around the city, accompanied by a butterfly that could basically possess someone and change them into anything. Not quite a normal day for Danny, but close enough, considering some of the things he'd put up with.

"I don't like the idea of that butterfly being loose on top of everything else." Not to mention the fact that finding it again would be nearly impossible. "We're gonna have to split up. I'll distract our friend with the deadly touch. You can torch Midas's minion."

"You sure about that? Those aren't office buildings anymore. We're past that. People live here."

"All the more reason to do this before he gets wherever he's going. For all we know, he's herding that butterfly, not chasing it."

"Aw, man, I didn't even think…." Jake trailed off. "Fine. Deal. Just don't go getting yourself killed, Phantom."

Danny smirked. He was nervous, but at least fighting was familiar, so the mask was an easy one to wear. Besides, what he had in mind involved minimal contact. "Hard to kill something you can't touch," he said, and then he flickered intangible and dove through Jake, concentrating on their target.

The guy was _definitely_ going to regret having a costume with a tail by the end of this.

* * *

 _5:31 PM_

Adrien saw the burst of fire from the corner of his eye a split second before it engulfed the akuma. He lunged forward, not sure what fire would do to it. It was magical; could fire even touch it? They'd never tried. After their mistake with Stoneheart, Ladybug had always been very careful to catch and purify the akuma before it got away. What if the fire just caused the akuma to multiply?

The akuma was a black shadow in the centre of the flame, but before Adrien could see anything else—or get any closer—he found himself hanging by his tail. The belt tightened uncomfortably around his middle, but it took more than that to take his breath away.

The sight of the buildings falling away beneath him was a good start, though.

The dragon clinched it.

Adrien had just enough time to realize the red dragon was the source of the flame before there was a blinding flash. By the time he blinked the spots away from his eyes, he couldn't see the dragon anymore, and he was too far away to hope to spot what had happened to the akuma. With some difficulty, he tried to twist around to see what was holding him. He wouldn't have been entirely surprised if it was another dragon. Plagg was real, after all, and his presence was probably less believable to some than a fire-breathing dragon. But even if he'd ended up fighting a dragon in New York City, of all places, he never would have expected it to help him.

Why would Hawk Moth— _who shouldn't even be here; why was he_ here _?_ —turn someone into a dragon and not have them fight to steal his Miraculous? The Critic hadn't split hairs about letting him know what she wanted once she'd realized he was around, and he had to wonder if Hawk Moth had only transformed her to see if he could coax out anyone of any power from here. It wasn't like he could have known Chat Noir would be here, after all, and Hawk Moth was definitely the type to collect as much power as he could. The dragon might not even have been intended for him; maybe the dragon had been intended for the ninja, whoever he had been.

Adrien really had to wonder about him. He hadn't expected New York City to be devoid of heroes, exactly, but he wouldn't have thought a ninja would be the one feeling at home here. Still, this ninja might not have been the amateur the Critic had claimed he was, but he clearly wasn't used to Hawk Moth's work if he hadn't had any plan to catch and purify the akuma, even if he had known enough to break the object where the akuma had settled. But just because he hadn't known about Hawk Moth, it didn't mean Hawk Moth hadn't known about him. Maybe the dragon had been intended to confront him all along, not Adrien. It wasn't like the dragon would easily earn Adrien's trust when he was a _dragon_ and therefore obviously under Hawk Moth's influence, but maybe this ninja didn't know any better.

Except…. What if it wasn't that obvious? Plagg had just told him that there were more kinds of magic in the world. Maybe the dragon really did live in New York City. Maybe he _had_ been trying to help just to get on Adrien's good side, just to get close to his Miraculous and to Plagg so that he could steal them away. And maybe that's why he had a partner, someone who had been able to grab Adrien while the first dragon destroyed—hopefully destroyed—the akuma. Maybe the ninja was even less incompetent than he'd appeared and had been sent to scout out the situation. Maybe he and the dragon worked together.

But if that were the case, why would he have helped Adrien instead of working with the Critic to trap him first?

Adrien still couldn't get a good look above him, so he started trying to swing. He didn't want to be dropped, exactly, especially when he was so high up he was getting cold and finding it hard to catch his breath in spite of the suit, but if he could get a better view, then maybe he could discover exactly what was holding onto him and figure this out.

He heard a squawk of surprise and found himself picking up speed, being pulled far faster than before. He fought to raise his head against the wind as he spun and twisted behind his captor, but he still couldn't see anything. Could dragons become invisible? He'd have to ask Plagg. Assuming he ever got the chance. What would Ladybug think if he never returned? What would his father think if his son disappeared?

"I can't let that happen," Adrien said, quietly enough that he knew the wind would tear away his words before his captor had a chance to hear them. "I've got to get out of this."

He just had no idea how.

"Hey!" he yelled, trying to get his captor's attention. Then, louder, " _Hey_! Where are you taking me?"

He didn't get an answer, though he didn't know if it was because he hadn't been heard or because he was being ignored.

"Hawk Moth's not going to like it if you just drop me on his doorstep, you know! He wants my Miraculous, not me!" He was speaking English, figuring that that was probably his captor's native tongue, but in desperation, he tried the same in French.

No response.

He kept yelling anyway, alternating between English and French and throwing some Chinese into the mix in the hope _something_ would halt this flight. Between the blood pounding in his head, the tossing and turning, the numbing cold, and the thin air, he really wasn't feeling well.

"Just let me go!" he screamed—but when he suddenly started falling, he regretted the rash words. He tumbled head over heels, darkening grey sky looking little different from the rippling slate of the water below. He still could see no sign of what had held him. As the water rushed closer, he reached for his staff, hoping to extend it and try to regain some sense of control, but it wasn't in its holder, and he realized he must have lost it when he'd been grabbed in the first place. He couldn't remember letting it go, but he couldn't remember putting it back, either. He was on his own.

Adrien closed his eyes on the sight of the water coming up to meet him and hoped that the impact didn't kill him.


	3. Chapter 3

_5:32 PM_

Jake blinked the spots from his eyes. Used though he was to bright flashes of fire, this had ended up a bit stronger than he'd anticipated. Even a few seconds after he'd cut off the flame, he could _still_ see the shadowy impression of the butterfly's dark magic burning up—which was really weird, because he'd never had that problem in dragon form before. He had a fleeting glimpse of the butterfly getting away—white now, but probably no less dangerous with his luck—but was distracted by a startled exclamation from a nearby building before he could follow it.

"Holy cheese, dragons are _real_?"

Jake snaked his head around to look, finally spotting a solitary figure in black staring at him from one rooftop over. At least Danny had gotten away without any trouble, though since he'd stayed invisible, Jake wasn't too surprised.

Honestly, he was more surprised this new guy was dressed like a stereotypical ninja. The kind of guy who had obviously never met a real ninja before. Blending in was actually a thing, and this guy didn't seem to have heard of that.

Not that Jake could talk.

"How the cheese did I not know this?" the ninja continued. Jake wondered if the ninja realized he was both heard and understood. Probably not. "The Nomicon definitely never said anything."

The name meant nothing to Jake, but it might twig something with Gramps or Fu. Jake figured he'd ask later. As the ninja threw his scarf out—and as it extended longer than it should if magic weren't involved—Jake flew up and hopefully out of this guy's reach. Sara and Kara hadn't contacted him with any further news, but that didn't mean this guy wasn't involved somehow. If he could just—

" _Hey, are mermaids real?"_

"What?" Jake had flinched when the Fenton Phone in his ear crackled to life, but his response was automatic. And, despite that, legitimate. What the heck was that supposed to mean?

" _Never mind."_

If Danny had intended to say anything else, it was lost in static. Which left Jake with the ninja, who had closed the distance between them in the time that Jake had hovered to talk to Danny.

"Hey! You! Dragon!"

Smooth.

But probably not evil; plenty of the villains Jake had run into tended to be more long-winded or at least eloquent in their words, and he'd capitalized on that waste of time more often than not. More importantly, Jake saw no sign of the Brooch of Metamorphosis or any of the others that had been in the book, but in all fairness, the suit covered a lot; it wouldn't take much to hide the Earrings of Creation or the Necklace of Illusion, for instance. He hoped, if there really more than seven of these things like G had said could be the case, this guy didn't have one of them; the last thing he needed was a complete surprise.

The ninja was waving frantically at him, clearly trying to get his attention. Jake beat his wings for a moment, trying to figure out if he should just leave him in the dust, and then decided the guy might actually have some useful information. It was worth a shot, anyway. And if not, well, Gramps would want to know who this guy was if someone else was going to know about the magical world—or needed their memory wiped, at least once they found out where he got his hands on what seemed to be a magical suit.

Jake landed on the other side of the roof, just to be on the safe side, even though he knew it wouldn't give him much of an edge.

The ninja's eyes widened in surprise. "You do understand me! That's totally bruce." He bounded toward Jake, staring at him as if he still couldn't believe what he was seeing. "If sorcerers and dragons are real, is everything else? Y'know, ghosts and unicorns and vampires and everything?"

Jake resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Barely. "Yo, you got a name?"

The ninja let out a whine of excitement. "Oh my _cheese_ this is so cool." He came closer still and held out a hand. "I'm the Ninja."

It wasn't a very inventive name, but considering Jake went by the American Dragon, he couldn't exactly talk. Against his better judgement, Jake held out a claw for the Ninja to grasp. He wasn't too keen on making friends right now; he had a feeling he might be fighting this guy later, since he obviously wasn't properly part of the magical world or he'd know about the American Dragon already. But for all Jake knew, the guy wasn't at all what he appeared. Maybe he _was_ working with the other guy, even if he didn't have the same magical accessories. For all Jake knew, the Ninja was the guy who had the box of these things to hand out.

Then again, assuming the Ninja was an enemy was the quickest way to make him one. Jake could give him the benefit of the doubt for now. "I'm the Am Drag. American Dragon. You wanna tell me why you're on my turf?"

"We have an _American Dragon_?' Before Jake could blink, the Ninja had produced a cell phone from his pockets. "Wait till I—"

Jake reached out and flicked it away, not caring that it smashed as it hit the roof. He was not taking that risk right now. "Yeah, that's not happening. This whole thing needs to be a secret. So spill, Ninja. Why are you here?"

The Ninja let out a pained cry at his phone's demise, but when he turned his attention to Jake, his demeanour had sobered. "I was trying to catch up with my friend, but you can help, too. I think an old enemy of mine's in town, and she'll wonk your cheese if given half the chance. She's switched up her tactics a bit, but the idea's the same. I don't know if she's working with someone or not, but she thrives on chaos, and believe me, you do _not_ want to see her at full power."

Jake narrowed his eyes. "Who do you think we're up against?"

The Ninja shrugged. "I just call her the Sorceress."

A sorceress. Great. He really needed another magic user to deal with. Like Pandarus and Nigel weren't bad enough. (Okay, so Nigel wasn't _that_ bad, but he was still annoying.) But maybe Jake would finally get lucky and this Ninja would be dead wrong. "And your friend?"

"Calls himself Chat Noir," replied the Ninja. He reached into his pocket and drew out some kind of silver cylinder. Holding it up, he said, "Carries this around. Uses it as either a baton or a pole. I'm pretty sure it's not a good sign that I found it over there." He jerked his thumb over his shoulder before slipping the rod back into his pocket. "Something happened, but I didn't see what."

Jake knew pretending to ignore the question wouldn't get him anywhere, but changing the subject slightly might. "You know him for long, Ninja?"

The Ninja crossed his arms. "Do you think he's the bad guy here? He's not the bad guy. He helped me fight someone who was stanked. Not that I needed help. I was the one helping him. I totally had it under control. He just happened to get there first."

Well, it was possible. Jake knew he couldn't discount that. But he also couldn't forget about the very real possibility that something might have been set up by this Chat Noir guy (Black Cat, very imaginative; at this rate, Danny was the best of them because he at least went by _Phantom_ and not _Ghost_ ). It might just be another attempt to draw them out. This Ninja had shown up, after all, and Jake had no idea where he'd come from. What if he only thought Chat Noir was a friend because he'd fallen for the guy's trap? The more he talked, the more it sounded like they'd only met recently. Then again, that could be deliberate….

Jake wasn't big on plans, but he had to think this one through. If this kid hadn't come by the Ring of the Black Cat honestly, he very well could have the Brooch of the Butterfly, too, or be working with the person who did. And Fu might not be wrong when it came to thinking the guy was some sort of bounty hunter or collector of magical objects. If the Ninja wasn't wrong about someone teaming up with this Sorceress, then she might have the brooch. And if he was, and she wasn't even in the picture, then Chat Noir—or his partner, if he had one—could just be causing chaos to try to distract them. Lure them out, maybe, and assess their abilities or use the distraction to hit up the shop. The Ninja turning up was probably a wrench in his plan if he'd wanted to target the shop, but that didn't mean he wouldn't adapt and figure out how to take whatever magical stuff the Ninja had, too.

Pretending to be one of the good guys before stabbing your friends in the back wasn't exactly a new trick.

Chat Noir knew what Jake looked like in human form, so he couldn't pretend to get close to him, but he'd never seen Danny. Neither, as far as Jake knew, had the Ninja. Which would be good, because Jake was pretty sure the Ninja wasn't going to believe Jake when he presented his case about Chat Noir. And Jake got that, he really did—it did all seem to be circumstantial evidence—but seriously. No person in their right mind goes into an electronics shop to ask for directions to a cheese shop. He _had_ to have been scouting them out. And hadn't it worked? He knew what both Jake _and_ Gramps looked like in human form now.

Sure, they knew what he looked like, too, but that wasn't going to do them a whole lot of good when someone apparently had the ability to change what things looked like.

 _Beware of the butterflies._ What else could that mean? It couldn't be a coincidence that there was a Butterfly Miraculous and that someone with the Cat Miraculous had just walked right into their shop the day after they'd received that warning. Especially since it was just the beginning. _You'll be busier than us once the attacks begin._ And he never _had_ dealt with these Miraculous things, which is pretty much exactly what Sara had said.

First things first. If there was a new sorceress in town wreaking havoc, he might be able to find some sign of it at the scene of the crime. "Where did this go down?" Jake asked. "Could you show me?"

"Yeah, but…. Does this mean you don't know where he is?"

Somewhere near water, if Danny's question was any indication, but truthfully, no, Jake had no idea, so he said as much. The Ninja seemed to take him at his word and agreed to lead Jake back to the place where things had gone down. Danny was still on radio silence, and Jake didn't want to fill him in while the Ninja was in earshot. They'd have time to catch up later, hopefully when he had learned a little bit more about what was going on.

* * *

 _5:33 PM_

Danny could fly faster than someone could freefall. When Jake had hesitated on the mermaid question, Danny knew he didn't have time to wait for an answer. He'd just dived. This guy wasn't a ghost, so it wasn't really fair to assume he could do something like swim—or, well, depending on how much magic he had at his disposal, survive a fall like this.

Danny grabbed the guy from an angle so he could redirect their momentum rather than stopping it abruptly—he wasn't sure how well that would work—and ended up skimming the surface of the water as he turned back toward shore. Cat boy was yelling, but Danny didn't care. He might be able to feel Danny's arms, but he hadn't tried to attack them or the body they were attached to, and that was a plus. It meant Danny didn't have to go intangible yet.

It wasn't, however, enough to earn Danny's trust. Before they got too close to the shore or any boats, Danny let go and let himself sink underwater, just to watch.

Cat boy had no trouble treading water, looking around frantically for some sign of Danny. When he didn't find anything, he started to swim toward land—long, strong strokes of the front crawl. The cold water didn't seem to bother him.

Danny rose out of the water in the other teen's wake, flicked intangible to free himself of the water, and reached back up to his Fenton Phone. Thankfully, they were practically indestructible, and that included being waterproof. "I'm going to put him on ice," he said quietly, not sure if Jake was still listening to him. He didn't want to risk trying to explain himself. Cat boy wasn't too far ahead of him; if he made too much noise, he'd be noticed, invisible or not, and he doubted being wet was going to slow this guy down too much.

Danny hoped the swim would be exhausting, but cat boy had good endurance and kept up a steady pace. That wasn't exactly comforting, especially if they were going to keep fighting later. Danny was used to opponents that took a while to wear down, but he knew how much energy he used in a fight; he'd just assumed anyone who was fully human would feel that even more.

Apparently, magic and good physical fitness on top of that stood for a lot. Cat boy varied his strokes, but his pace didn't lag much. When he was close to shore and had stopped to tread water to look around again, Danny took the opportunity for what it was and used his ice powers. He saw a flash of fear on the teen's face as he realized what was happening, but then it was over.

He wasn't frozen solid, but he _was_ encased in a thick box of ice. Which didn't give him much oxygen, but it _would_ —presumably—allow Danny to see what the heck Jake meant when he talked about this guy having the power of destruction. Because who wouldn't use something like that to get out of a trap like this? The walls were too thick to break without something designed for the job, and this guy didn't even have his pole thing anymore.

Danny added handles to the prison before turning it and its captive invisible and pulling them from the water. He heard muffled screams from inside before it quieted down, which probably meant the guy was biding his time or activating his power. Danny suspected the former; he was flying fast enough that he sorta doubted cat boy was keen on freefalling again, at least as long as he could avoid just being dropped in general.

Danny really didn't know his way around New York, so he just aimed for a building with a flat roof that looked more commercial than residential. He dropped their invisibility and abruptly realized the entire ice block was covered in a spider web of cracks—not easy to do, considering how strong his ice was.

He started to set it down.

It exploded.

Cat boy was at the far side of the roof before Danny realized what was happening. He flickered intangible again, letting the ice shards fall through his flesh, and hissed in pain. Even with his healing ability, this was going to slow him down a bit. "Guess I got what I deserved," he muttered, holding one hand just above his right eye to stem the bleeding from where a shard had caught him on the forehead. "Not like I didn't know he was going to get out of there."

Trouble was, he thought he'd learn something, like how cat boy could actually do that.

He hadn't.

The only warning he'd gotten was the spreading cracks, and even knowing it would be coming, he hadn't been prepared for it.

And now cat boy had definitely seen him.

Danny didn't bother going invisible now. Cat boy hadn't found an escape and had instead turned back to face Danny. Something beeped, and the other boy's face hardened. He moved away from the edge, but not far. Danny stayed where he was, not wanting to make the first move.

As it turned out, he didn't need to. "You came for my Miraculous," cat boy said. Like Jake had said, he had an accent. Him not being from New York would be a plus if Danny actually knew his way around the city, but as it was, Danny would have to see how well Jake could describe landmarks seen from the air once they got through this confrontation.

He still had intangibility on his side, and hopefully this building wasn't too important….

"Your Miraculous," Danny repeated, trying to remember what Jake had told him. "Your ring, right? The source of your power?"

Cat boy's hands clenched into fists, but he still didn't move.

"You seem to be pretty good at using that power, Destructo."

Cat boy snorted. "Stick with Chat Noir."

"What?"

"It's Chat Noir, Freeze Ray."

" _Phantom_."

"Phantom, then. You haven't won. Just because my partner isn't here, doesn't mean you're going to take me down that easily."

Oh, great. He did have a partner. Just what they needed. Jake was right about someone else having the magic brooch. Danny groaned. He hated dealing with magical jewellery. First Dora's necklace, and then that ring—

Chat Noir started running, and Danny shot an ectoblast at him before remembering the other boy was essentially human. It didn't matter; cat boy was quick on his feet and managed to dodge that and Danny's subsequent blasts with ice, varying his speed and direction so he was harder to hit. Trying to predict his movements only led to mounds of ice scattered across the roofs.

Danny iced over what he thought might be a door to the rest of the building, for as long as that would last, but he stopped trying to freeze Chat Noir in place when he realized every attempt was just giving him more places to hide. Just because he didn't want to get too close, didn't mean he was willing to let Chat Noir out of his sight when he could take down the entire building as easily as he had burst out of the ice block.

Danny turned, trying to spot the other boy, and groaned when he couldn't see anything, even when he flew a bit higher. "I'm so going to regret this," he muttered, but he created a clone and both of them winked out of sight before flying overhead to try to spot Chat Noir.

Instead of finding Chat Noir, he found a scared boy huddling behind a block of ice, feeding something that smelled like dirty socks to a tiny, flying cat.

"What?" Danny asked, forgetting for a moment that he was invisible. The boy jumped, spraying Danny with a few stray water droplets as his head jerked towards Danny, and the cat flew _through_ him. Danny blinked, dropping his clone and lapsing back into visibility. His ghost sense had never gone off. "How—?"

The boy—well, Chat Noir, just without his cat suit (but _with the black cat_?)—scuttled away from Danny, finding his feet and running to hide somewhere else. Danny flew up to follow. There was another flash, and the boy had his costume back.

 _And_ his pole.

Which he was currently using to get away.

"Hey, wait!" Danny yelled, flying after him. He hadn't expected the boy to lose the costume, even temporarily, even if it _did_ mean he got his pole back. If he was as destructive as his reputation, he should've had no problem creating a hole and escaping through the building if he didn't just flat out collapse the entire thing. Had he changed back unintentionally?

If he had, and if was because he'd been exhausted, he'd gotten his second wind a heck of a lot faster than Danny ever had.

Something didn't add up. Danny flew faster, catching up to Chat Noir as he was using his pole—baton?—as a helicopter blade. Danny didn't really want to knock him off course, but he kept pace. "Hey, look— Stop ignoring me, okay? We should talk."

Chat Noir kept turning, steering away from Danny as best he could without running into a building.

"I'm sorry, okay? I think I…. Look, maybe we got off on the wrong foot."

Chat Noir muttered something, maybe in French since it didn't sound like English, and then suddenly stopped spinning his baton and dropped. Danny yelped in spite of himself and tried to catch up, but the other boy had hit the ground before Danny had reacted. Chat Noir dove into the nearest building and, despite going intangible to get inside faster, Danny lost track of him.

Great.

Danny flew back outside and turned his Fenton Phone back on. "Jake?" He didn't get an answer, but he continued on in the hope that Jake could hear him. "Jake, I think we've got something wrong. Where should I meet you?" Danny waited, but there was still nothing. "Jake? Can you hear me? Just say something so I know you're getting this. Even if it's not an answer. Okay?"

The silence stretched.

 _Crud._

Danny shot up above the skyline again to get his bearings. He might not be able to figure out where he'd left Jake, but he could swing by the shop and see if Gramps or Fu had heard anything. It was his best shot.

* * *

 _6:14 PM_

Adrien shivered. The cold hadn't bothered him too much while he'd been transformed, and his hair had dried during his escape, but it felt like it would be a long time before he could shake this chill. Plagg hid in his pocket again, and Adrien peeked out from the potted plant behind which he'd ducked. The coast looked clear, but that didn't mean much when he was dealing with some kind of ice ghost.

He headed deeper into the mall, keeping his head down. He still had some American money in his pocket from when he'd gone out earlier to buy cheese for Plagg, and he used most of what he'd brought to buy himself a hooded sweater. He zipped it up to his chin and pulled up his hood. Father wouldn't approve, but Adrien couldn't afford to be picky. He needed to blend in, as much as anyone could, and he needed to get warm. At least his clothes weren't soaked.

Adrien wasn't sure where he was, but despite the best efforts of Nathalie and the Gorilla, he was familiar with the metro, and he could figure out the one here, too. He knew where he needed to go, and it didn't take much to find the metro station, study a map, buy a ticket, and get on the right train. He had a few transfers ahead of him, but that would give him time to figure out his story.

Well.

Enough of a story.

Something Nathalie would accept, if not believe.

He was still trying to figure out why Hawk Moth was in New York. He'd seen the akuma; he _knew_ it was Hawk Moth. But he wasn't likely to catch Ladybug when she was transformed to confirm that Paris was quiet, and he didn't really want to tell her he'd lost one akuma and was now tackling someone else who had been infected by a different one. He could check the Ladyblog when he got back to the hotel—Alya was usually quick about updating it once there was an obvious attack; more than once, her postings had been the first evidence he'd seen of someone being akumatized—but he didn't think he'd find anything.

He didn't think there was more than one Hawk Moth.

He couldn't risk discussing anything with Plagg now (pretending to be on his phone wouldn't work if this Phantom had managed to follow him after all and was just biding his time), but he would've done almost anything to at least be able to hash out ideas with Ladybug. If she didn't know what to do, she'd be able to figure something out. Without her, he had to figure out how to capture the akuma—or rather, all of them—and keep everything contained until she could work her purifying magic.

He'd have to talk to Plagg again, but Adrien remembered him saying only Ladybug had that power, that he didn't. So without her….

"I don't know how I can beat him alone," Adrien whispered. He missed having a partner to watch his back. The Ninja he'd met, whoever he really was, was a poor replacement for Ladybug. Especially when Adrien didn't even know if he'd see the guy again. But Adrien knew he'd meant well, and he had helped, more or less, and that counted for something.

He wasn't entirely sure how the Ninja had known to break the pen to release the akuma, but at least that had limited the Critic's damage.

Plagg had told him that there was other magic in this town, and maybe the Ninja was part of that, too. And while Plagg had warned him to stay away from that magic, Adrien needed help. The Critic's akuma would have multiplied by now, and Hawk Moth had already sent out another one in Phantom. Adrien had no idea _why_ Phantom had been akumatized from his name, but chances were the akuma was hiding in something in Phantom's pocket, which would make it even harder to figure out. Then again, if he couldn't capture and cleanse the akuma, he would be better off leaving Phantom alone for as long as he could; trying to deal with one of him was more than enough. But maybe the Ninja had something that could help….

Someone vacated one of the seats at the next stop, and Adrien gratefully sank into it. He had a long ride ahead of him, and a longer night still, and he was exhausted. He needed to conserve what little energy he had. Even if Hawk Moth—for some reason—decided to give him a night's grace, he should already be back at the show, and he couldn't turn up with bags under his eyes or let his aching muscles show in his movements. It was simply Not Acceptable.

And acceptance was all Adrien was trying to get from his father these days.

* * *

 _5:47 PM_

"Wait, hold on, dawg, that fight you told me about went down _here_?"

Randy glanced over his shoulder. The Am Drag had stopped short and was staring at the building where this fashion show was being held. He nodded. "Yeah, why? You know it?"

The dragon swallowed. "I know someone who's down there."

Randy looked back; the crowd had gathered outside again. "That can't be hard," he said. "Even _I_ know someone down there, and I'm not even from here."

"Aw, man," groaned the dragon. "She'll hate me crashing, but I've gotta warn her. Do me a solid and keep watch for your friend, Ninja. If you see him, let me know."

"How? You totally wrecked my cell with that shoob move of yours."

Randy hadn't known dragons could roll their eyes, but apparently they could. "Yo, it's not that big a deal. I know someone in electronics. I can replace it by, like, tomorrow. Give you something with a number programmed into it where you can reach me. In the meantime…." The Am Drag hesitated, but Randy was not about to throw him a bone. A replacement cell phone would not replace everything he had just lost on his old one, which included text message arguments with Howard that Randy had actually managed to win.

Randy didn't see where the Am Drag had pulled it from, but he was holding out some green thing between his claws. "It's an earpiece. The channel's pre-set, so just put it on and touch the button on the side to turn it on. I am not usually the one saying this, but keep quiet unless you have to, ya hear? I don't want anyone realizing what these things are."

Randy took it and looked at it. "Isn't it pretty obvious?"

"I dunno. Apparently they can pass as wacky earrings on girls. I didn't design them. Just holla if you need help with anything, or if Chat Noir shows up. I…I need to talk to him. Just, uh, don't tell him that if you see him, okay? I want it to be a surprise."

Most of that was a mess of lies even to Randy's ears, but whatever. The Am Drag probably already knew Chat Noir anyway and he was now part of the setup of some elaborate joke. No matter; he was down for a bit of fun, and if he found more proof of the Sorceress, this would give him a line to the American Dragon. He wasn't about to turn down an opportunity like that. Not having to fight the Sorceress alone would be a relief, and working with a dragon would be honkin' bruce. Way better than just fighting alongside cat boy, assuming Randy ever had the chance to fill him in.

He should've never waited so long to follow, but it's not like he'd been going in the wrong direction, anyway. Finding Chat Noir's stick thing proved that. But for him to be missing…. Was he too late?

Nah. More likely, Chat Noir had needed to use the litter box. That was one of the main reasons Randy would run off from a fight faster than usual.

"No problemo," Randy said. "And, hey, can you maybe— Wait, where are you going?"

The Am Dragon, who had launched himself back into the air, snaked his neck down to look at Randy as he hovered a good twenty feet above the rooftop. "I need to talk to someone. Don't worry; I'll be in contact again soon. Just watch your step in the meantime, ya hear? Something's going down in the NYC, and the Am Drag ain't able to completely head it off." And then he beat his wings again, gaining height and momentum before he shot away.

It was the second time in half an hour that another hero had just bolted on Randy. Maybe Howard was right. Maybe he _should_ wash the suit. He was pretty sure the stench of the smoke bombs wasn't going to come out, and he'd always thought it just kinda cleaned itself anyway because he'd never had issues before, but this was getting ridiculous.

Whatever. He should check on McFist again and make sure his ride hadn't left without him. He doubted Marci would want to split before the show, but the Sorceress's attack might've thrown things off. McFist might not be too keen on being caught in the middle of something where he had no semblance of control—or Viceroy to bail him out.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: It's been a while since my last update (sorry), so if anyone wants a refresher on what's happened so far, I've got a timeline post for this fic on my tumblr (ladylynse) which won't include this chapter's events for a few days, so it's currently spoiler-free. (There is also a direct link to that post on the AO3 version of this story since links are accepted on that site; I'm also Lynse there.) Thanks to everyone who's reviewed!

 _5:53 PM_

Jake couldn't find an obvious hole in security around the building where the fashion show gala whatever-it-was was being held—every entrance was guarded and all the windows were closed, assuming any actually opened in the first place—and that made his job a little harder. He _could_ probably get in from the roof. After all, a locked door was no match for his dragon claw unless it was magically locked, and this wouldn't be. No, his problem with that method was the fact that there were cameras _everywhere_. He'd already have to invent some cover story in case people realized this first attack was due to magic; he didn't need to add a dragon sighting to the mix.

He flew for about a block and a half before dropping into an alley, changing, and doubling back. His very human eyes picked out even fewer details than he had as a dragon, so he lurked across the street for a bit so he could text Fu and Danny and fill them in. The Ninja had told him enough to worry him. The fact that _this place_ had been targeted out of everything else that was going on in the NYC tonight?

Not a coincidence.

 _Definitely_ not a coincidence.

Jake already knew Chat Noir had done some research. He'd found their shop, after all. It wouldn't have been hard for him to find their family, either. Or his mom's catering business. But the fact that he knew she'd be here tonight?

Jake made sure his phone was on silent before shoving it back into his pocket. In his book, going after parents was a low blow. His mom might know about the magical world, but she didn't have dragon powers, so she couldn't exactly defend herself as easily as her father or her kids. Endangering her was pretty much a declaration of war in Jake's book. Even the elves she worked with didn't do much in terms of magic; they wouldn't be able to protect themselves, let alone anyone else, if it came down to a fight.

Jake kinda doubted she'd drop everything and leave, given how that would look, but at the very least, he could warn her. And hide somewhere nearby in case she needed protection. Even if she didn't want him to.

Magic was looking like his best bet to get into this place, even if Gramps wouldn't approve.

Well.

Magic, or maybe just the truth. Or at least a half truth. It would probably look better when he tried to explain this to everyone else if magic wasn't his first resort.

He tried to pat his hair into something his mother might think was an acceptable position before peeling off to approach one of the security guards, a stern-faced lady with greying hair pulled back into a bun. "I'm Jake Long," he said when he'd reached her. "The caterer's son. She asked me to come by and help move some things."

The dubious look he received had him pulling out his student card, which was about the only ID he actually had. "See?"

"Sorry, kid. Can't let anyone in without the proper clearance, and unless I hear from someone else, that's going to include you."

"But my mom—"

"I don't make the rules, kiddo."

Jake managed not to scowl at the nickname. "Can't you at least radio someone? Ask for Susan Long to come down? She'll vouch for me." His mother would not be happy, but she'd understand.

"Look, I don't think you understand—"

"Are you sure _you_ understand?" interrupted Jake. "This is an important party, yo. Do _you_ want to be the one who ruined it because you wouldn't let in the caterer's help?"

"Listen, kid. The caterer has all the help she needs, and all those people have the proper clearance and badges to prove it. You don't. So beat it."

Of all the times not to have his board with him. There was no way this lady would've been able to catch him if he did, even in this crowd.

He didn't have time to go back and get Fu to brew up a potion.

He didn't really have a lot of time to wait around and focus for any fancy magic of his own, either, not when he didn't know how things had gone down with Danny or if this Chat Noir had set anything up—or if his potential partner had, assuming it wasn't the Ninja who had baited the trap Jake was trying to walk right into.

So he bolted, making a beeline for the door. The security guard was right on his tail, but he was used to that, and he was as good at ducking underneath obstacles as he was at flying over them. Of course, he didn't know if the door was locked, and he didn't have the time to pick it, so he called up what dragon strength he could in human form and wrenched it open. This nearly sent him flying back because it _hadn't_ been locked, probably because there was some kind of First Aid station set up just inside the doors, and he plowed through them and jumped the barriers without missing a beat.

He had to find his mom.

He had to warn her.

The fact that the first attack had been here couldn't have been a coincidence.

If she at least knew to keep an eye out, that there was someone around, probably someone who was watching her, she and the rest of her crew could be extra careful. Take more precautions than usual. And spend as little time hanging around as possible.

With that in mind, Jake twisted around the new security guard that had joined the chase and raced down the hall. He tried to get his bearings as he went. He'd come in some side entrance, off the beaten path but not disconnected from the main hall that he could see ahead. He got through the next set of doors and ran full tilt into another pair of security officers. A few quick breaths of flame surprised them enough to give him time to scramble to his feet, vault over the next set of barriers, and keep going.

The fire probably hadn't been the brightest idea, in hindsight; now, they probably thought he had a lighter and maybe that he was a particularly stupid arsonist. In all likelihood, it would bring _more_ people down on him. But he worked with what he had. Once he got to his mom and warned her, then he'd leave. Sneak out, if that was actually possible, but at the very least willingly be kicked out.

Hopefully, his mom would step in if they actually called the police.

Jake didn't pay attention to the screams. He just kept running and dodging, zigzagging and sliding, weaving and rolling. He scattered more than a few chairs, tore down a banner or two or ten, and tried to be as inconspicuous in his use of dragon powers as possible.

There was more than a little flame in his wake, though.

Which _might_ have set off the fire alarm.

And activated the sprinklers.

Just a little bit.

He risked a glance over his shoulder, confirmed that they were still chasing him, and then looked forward. Realizing too late he was about to careen into the table, he tried to brake, swerve, jump it, anything, but he was going too fast to control it, especially with the wet floors, and—

" _Jake Long_!"

Something that may have been caviar slid down the side of his face, joining the mess of unidentifiable hors d'oeuvres in his lap and, well, everywhere else.

"Just _what_ do you think you're doing, young man?"

He was so dead.

"Um…. Delivering a message?" He couldn't tell her in front of everyone that he was trying to warn her. Not that there were many people left besides her staff—who knew about him, being elves—and the guards chasing him. The only reason she was standing over him, soaking wet and glaring, was because she'd recognized the magic in the fire most humans couldn't identify. She thought this mess was his fault, that he'd ruined this show—gala—whatever it was—for nothing.

"You did all this," Susan Long repeated slowly, her voice quiet and tight, "just to deliver a message? Jake, I'm going to be lucky if anyone hires me after this. Gabriel Agreste has his fingers in a lot of pots, even over here. What can possibly be so important that you would do this?"

Jake looked behind him, decided he had enough time, and hurriedly whispered, "There's going to be an attack. I think. This new guy in town, Chat Noir, he knows about us. About _all_ of us. He's going to try to hurt you—"

"Jake." Something in Susan's expression had softened, if not enough to save his hide. "I appreciate your concern, but you need to learn to judge the situation at hand." She was speaking though her teeth now, a tight apologetic smile fixed on her face as she turned to the guards who'd come up behind him. "My apologies for my son's antics," she said. "We will of course pay for the damage he caused."

Jake swallowed.

He wasn't sure his mother's company and his family's savings combined could cover everything he had just done. Insurance wasn't going to help if they thought he'd done this on purpose, and he couldn't exactly tell anyone else the truth.

How had he managed to screw up this much in such a short period of time?

XXXXXXXXX

 _6:24 PM_

They were ruined before opening night. Oh, something might be salvageable. The new opening could be staged elsewhere tomorrow night, possibly even with an improvised, shorter show as a teaser outside tonight. But he had come here for more than just the show; that had merely been a convenient guise.

A quick test of the waters had proven fruitful, lending credence to information he hadn't been sure was reliable.

Finding Chat Noir in the city as well was simply a delightful bonus. Without his usual fighting partner by his side, there was an even greater chance than usual that he'd finally acquire the Ring of the Black Cat.

Especially now.

He didn't know the details of what had happened, of course. Not yet. But he could find out easily enough. Even in the midst of the terror and chaos, he could feel the anger, the hurt, the shame, the _disappointment_.

The others could wait for him a little bit longer.

He cradled his hands and called a butterfly to him, infusing it with magic. "Destroyed by a child's folly and burning with righteous fire within. What better time than now to let her fury blaze freely? Fly away, my little akuma, and blacken her heart!"

The akuma flitted off immediately, and he didn't have to wait long until the connection was made. Sensing his victim's heart, he smiled. "Hello, Dracona," he said. "My name is Hawk Moth. I know how it feels to be betrayed by your own blood, to be painted as the draconian villain. I'll help you to unleash your inner fire and find fairness in flame to teach a lesson that won't be so easily forgotten. All I ask in return is for you to gather as much information on what passes for superheroes in this city as you can—and to fetch the ring of Chat Noir if he crosses your path. Do we have a deal?"

He was used to immediate agreement. Instead, he sensed laughter. _"Hawk Moth,"_ drawled his chosen champion, _"I haven't heard of you before. You don't sound like the Mothman."_

He gritted his teeth, took a breath, and said, "I am far from mere fantasy. I can grant you power—"

" _Let me unlock my own power,"_ she breathed, _"and you have a deal."_

"It is always a matter of unlocking your own power," he assured her, not adding that Nooroo's magic truly let the transformation occur. "Do we have an agreement?"

" _Yes, Hawk Moth."_

He felt the magic overtake her, transform her, but there was something… _wilder_ about it than he was used to. As if Dracona would prove more troublesome than most. The magic seemed stronger than it should, but not in his favour—as if she really did have her own power.

The notion was ridiculous, of course. Mere humans could only obtain power as he had, with magical objects. It was never inherently within them. More likely, this one had simply unleashed an inner fury she typically kept contained.

He heard a roar, a cacophony of screams, and smiled.

Chat Noir would return, as would this Ninja, and with any luck, the power he had granted Dracona would help him gain more of his own.

XXXXXXX

 _6:07 PM_

Randy had barely gotten back inside the venue where this fashion show gala thing was being held when the fire alarm started blaring and the sprinklers went off.

Naturally, he hid, so instead of getting swept out of the building with everyone else, he was still around to see more than a few pairs of sodden security guards escort a sullen teenager from the building. He saw the woman walking a step behind them, a string of apologies falling from her lips, and guessed that whoever she was—she was wearing a uniform, so she had to be someone—that she was responsible for the boy.

And it didn't take a genius to guess that the poor shoob was probably the one who'd wonked this up big time.

As fire marshals cleared the last of the building, Randy slipped out to follow the kid and the other woman. Hopefully, he'd get a better idea of who was feeling worse _before_ they split up. Not that that would stop the Sorceress if this was her work; she'd just target both of them. Heck, she might just target the entire crowd. There had to be a lot of people out there who were sure their evening had been ruined, Marci and McFist included….

"I can't go home, Mom," complained the boy when the guards had finally left—miraculously without calling the cops, as far as Randy could tell. He wondered how many strings had had to be pulled for that to happen. He and Howard probably wouldn't have gotten off so easily if they'd been caught red-handed like this boy. "I've got— _y'know_ —that _business_ I've gotta take care of."

The mother's lips thinned. "Then go to the store and fetch your grandfather. I don't want you working alone on this, Jake."

"But you—"

"The only danger I'm in is of losing my business after what you've done."

Randy winced even as the boy deflated. His mom's tone hadn't been angry, exactly. More quietly disapproving, dripping with disappointment and a touch of resignation. As if the damage was done, as if there wasn't time to be angry. Or—judging by the tightness of her expression—as if it weren't the time or place to make a scene.

"Just let me fix this—"

"Jake," his mother snapped, "leave it. You've done enough. I don't have any more strings to pull and my favours won't mean anything if I can't recover from this. If you _are_ right about there being more danger than usual, then I won't let you work alone. You know I'm not unprotected. Go. Your responsibility isn't for me."

"But—"

" _Now_."

Jake's burning face betrayed the shame he was feeling, but he still opened his mouth to argue. Randy bit his lip. The Sorceress would make short work of either of these two-and probably practically anyone in the crowd who was crying over a ruined dress or angry over a ruined night or—

This was going to be bad.

He could use some help.

He kinda wished the dragon had stuck around, but maybe it was best that he hadn't; fire-breathing dragons didn't exactly exude calm.

It would've been nice if cat boy had shown his face again, though, even if Randy had to admit he'd lost Chat Noir's stick thing in the fire. He didn't _remember_ dropping it, but it wasn't in his pockets anymore, so he must have. That was really saying something, considering it had been ages since he'd accidentally dumped his throwing balls anywhere or lost his sword.

Randy touched the earpiece the Am Drag had given him. He'd put it on under the mask, but it seemed to be dead—which was unfortunate because it was probably his only source of backup. Maybe the channel wasn't actually pre-set on it. Or maybe there was no one to hear him trying to use it. He pushed the button on the side again and whispered, "Hey, uh, whoever can hear this…. It'd be honkin' bruce if I could get a little help. I'm, ah, pretty sure I'm gonna need it."

Silence.

He pressed the button and tried again.

" _Who is this?"_

Randy blinked. He hadn't actually expected a response, at least not from someone who definitely wasn't the Am Drag. Maybe this thing _wasn't_ broken. Or maybe he'd just been hitting the wrong button, or not holding it long enough, or pressing it twice, or something. "I'm the Ninja," he answered, retreating as much as he could. The wail of sirens had cut off a few minutes ago, and the buzz of the crowd wouldn't necessarily hide his conversation this close to the people he'd been watching. "Who're you?"

" _The…_ what _? Forget it, where'd you get this?"_

"Where'd I get what?"

" _The Fenton Phone!"_

"The what?"

There was grumbling on the other end of the line, coupled with a sharp increase in wind noise. Whoever it was was on the move. _"The communication device you're using to talk to me."_

Oh. "I've got some friends in high places," he said evasively.

More grumbling. Then, _"Where are you?"_

"Um." Randy wasn't actually sure. He'd found the place; that didn't mean he knew where it was. He'd planned on following McFist back to the plane when the time came. "Where the big fashion show is. The opening thing. The gala. Y'know. That place." Even he knew that wasn't the most helpful description in the world. "You can't miss it," he added before the other guy could say something. "Just look for all the firetrucks and stuff. All the lights are still flashing."

That was definitely a groan. _"Fine, I'll find you eventually. Just stay put."_

"Are you honkin' kidding me? I'm gonna be _waaaay_ too busy to leave if this shakes out the way I think it will."

" _Which is how, exactly?"_

As if he was going to tell some shoob on the other end of the line about the Sorceress and everything she could do. "Bad."

" _How bad?"_

"Very."

" _Yeah, but how bad are we talking?"_

There was a note of earnestness the other boy's voice that gave Randy pause. He was used to dealing with the Sorcerer, but this wasn't Norrisville. This was New York City, and he had no clue about the lay of the land. He couldn't assume the Sorceress was going to be as clueless because chances were she'd been operating for a while, biding her time until some event like this came up as a perfect opportunity to gain power. He doubted she'd counted on a dragon being in town, much less him or some foreign cat boy, but if she attacked now? With so many people around, all ready to panic?

It would be pandemonium, and the chaos would only make her stronger. The three of them would have a tough time stopping her. And if they failed?

"Worst case? Apocalyptic. So I'd rather wonk her cheese _before_ it gets to the point."

" _You'd rather…what? Who are you talking about? Who are we dealing with?"_

"I'll fill you in when you get here. You won't be able to miss me. Pretty sure I'm the only Ninja in town."

" _With the secrets this place has, I wouldn't count on it,"_ was the muttered response.

Randy didn't hear a click, but the background noise of rushing wind vanished abruptly. He shut his own earpiece off—or he tried—and crept back outside. The mother and son duo had vanished, though that amounted to little given the crowd not fifty feet away. They could be anywhere, and they weren't the Sorceress's only potential victims.

Besides, if the Sorceress had been out for any length of time and regained any power at all, she wasn't going to be limited to people who were emotionally compromised. She could stank anyone, maybe even him if he wasn't careful. She'd had zero trouble stanking people when she'd caught everyone at the fake club last time, even before they'd all been really panicking. She'd even gotten Morgan, and that girl was level-headed enough to have avoided the Sorcerer so far.

Still, as far as he knew, the Sorceress actually had to have eyes on someone to stank them like that.

If she was waiting around somewhere, she was either in the middle of the crowd…or somewhere above it.

Randy chewed his lip. The Nomicon hadn't been flashing at him, so it didn't have anything to say, which was weird. But maybe it wouldn't be the worst idea in the world to double check on that, assuming it would open for him. He could _probably_ get back out of it in time to meet whoever he'd just been talking to on the earphone thingy.

He ended up sprinting back inside and hiding under a table. He yanked his mask off and pulled out the Nomicon. It fell open at his touch, and he fell into the dizzying world of spiralling symbols.

He didn't land so much as crash into a pool of water. He broke the surface, sputtering but not hurt. He swam the few meters to shore and tried to wipe the water out of his eyes. "What the juice, Nomicon? I just want some tips on dealing with the honkin' _Sorceress_. I don't need a bath! I don't smell _that much_. It's the _smoke bombs_."

Angrily yelling at the sky actually had a chance of being effective in the Nomicon, and sure enough, clouds began gathering above him. He crossed his arms and waited. After a few seconds, misty words had formed: **TO CLEANSE THE SOUL, ONE MUST FIRST CLEAR THE MIND**.

"How the cheese do you expect me to cleanse the mind and soul of the Sorceress? She's the _Sorceress_."

The Nomicon, being its usual unhelpful self, only slightly amended its message: **TO CLEANSE THE SOUL, ONE MUST FIRST** **CLEAR THE MIND** **.**

"Clear and cleanse mean the same thing!"

A second underline appeared beneath the first.

Randy scowled.

He wasn't entirely surprised when the clouds descended to engulf him. Hacking, he sat back up in the real world—and banged his head on the table. _Of course_. The Nomicon swung closed and slid to the floor. Once he had his mask back on and had stuffed the Nomicon into his pocket, he poked his head out from beneath the tablecloth to make sure the coast was still clear.

It wasn't.

The officials wouldn't have cleared this place for re-entry yet; he _should_ have been safe. Instead, that kid's mom was there. Her uniform was still a mess, and she was still soaked through from the sprinklers. She and her son probably should've been looked over for smoke inhalation or something like that if they'd been one of the last ones out; she certainly shouldn't have been here.

Except she was.

More to the point, she was definitely ripe for the stanking. Her fists were clenched, her tie was askew and—yeah, that was _definitely_ a scorch mark on her red blazer. She just stood in the middle of the room, looking at the mess. The ruin.

She should be safe. The Sorceress wouldn't have reason to look in here, not right now, not when it was supposed to be clear and she had tons of targets outside. Except….

Except he could see this woman trembling. Anger, frustration, hopelessness—he wasn't sure why. He just knew she was vulnerable.

After what had happened with the other lady outside, the one who'd called herself the Critic— After that, he shouldn't have been surprised when he spotted the black butterfly. The problem was, he spotted it too late. He only noticed it when it was _right there_ , and then it landed on the woman's necklace and _melted into it_. She froze, her trembling stopping, and he overheard half of a whispered conversation that made zero sense.

Well, almost zero sense.

 _Let me unlock my own power._ Never a good request in his book. _Yes, Hawk Moth._ Like it wasn't actually the Sorceress behind this after all, just some shoob obsessed with butterflies. And, worst of all, _you have a deal._ Because he had no idea what that deal was, just the conviction that it was going to seriously wonk things up.

And then she…changed.

Grew.

It wasn't exactly like watching someone be stanked, but it was close. Similar enough, at any rate. Suspiciously so. The animalistic features were all too familiar, and the shimmering purple-pink scales—slashed with green on the underbelly—weren't a surprise, either. The wings and tail, on the other hand? The horns? The ridge of spines from nape to tail? The length of those sharp talons? Yeah, those were more surprising. The intelligence behind those dark eyes wasn't a comfort, either.

He'd been excited to meet his first real live dragon.

He was considerably less excited to meet the second.

He wondered what the chances were of the first one coming back.

He should really go back outside. Wait for that other person to show up. Try to figure out how to fight a honkin' _dragon_ without endangering everyone else. The Critic hadn't been able to breathe fire—he was not going to bet this dragon couldn't—or fly, which had at least limited her ability to do serious damage. This time….

Randy swallowed. The Nomicon hadn't mentioned anything about this. Maybe it hadn't known. If no other Ninja had ever encountered the like, that was definitely possible. And how many Ninjas would've met a dragon that hadn't just been created by the Sorcerer?

At least he knew how to do the Ninja Hydro Hand. That would probably help. Plus the fact that he knew why this lady had gotten stanked. Or, well, butterflied. Same idea. He'd figured out that much.

The dragon beat her wings, overturning nearby chairs and effectively ruining his cover when the tablecloth went flying, but she didn't seem to notice him. Which was good, because it didn't seem to be taking her long to get used to her new form. It had never taken anyone who was stanked long, either. It was like a natural instinct.

There was an upside, though: because this was definitely like someone who was stanked—he knew that from the fight with the Critic—then that should mean—

 _There_. It was hard to pick out against the dragon's scales, but her necklace hadn't changed like everything else. The stank—butterfly—whatever—was inside it, and all he had to do was get it and break it and things could go back to normal.

Easier said than done.

"Whatever shoob is coming to back me up better get here soon," Randy muttered as he stole forward, keeping low to the floor as he followed in the dragon's wake. She flew steadily and nimbly, sliding to fit through doorways he would've thought were too small. He'd expected her to be like a fledgling, still figuring out her wings, but this…. This was skill, like she'd studied aerodynamics her whole life or something. Like she was a pilot, not…whatever her actual job was that had her working here.

She was fast, which meant he'd have to be faster. He'd have to find a way to hold her off until _someone_ arrived, whether it was Mr. Mysterious Voice, Chat Noir, or the Am Drag.

The dragon smashed through the outer doors with a roar, and the screaming began. Palming a few Ninja Cold Balls, Randy ran to catch up.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: For QueenofHearts7378, as a long-overdue thank you. Enjoy!

* * *

 _6:16 PM_

Jake didn't expect his cell phone to start ringing, but he wasn't entirely surprised to answer it and find Danny on the other end of the line. The line crackled with wind, meaning Danny was moving and doing a poor job of sheltering his phone, and if he was calling without stopping— "What's up?" Jake asked, not entirely sure he wanted to hear the answer. Hadn't getting reamed out by his mom been enough? If something had gone wrong with Danny's fight with cat boy—

" _Did you give your Fenton Phone away to some guy calling himself the Ninja?"_

Jake groaned. He wasn't even halfway to the shop—on foot, because he wasn't wholly eager to get there and explain the whole disaster to Gramps and Fu when it would just mean he'd be yelled at in Chinese and subtly reminded that this _was_ important—and this was not the news he wanted to hear. "Aw, man, he didn't call to report the fire, did he?" If Danny knew about the Ninja, then he probably knew about everything else, too, and Jake was not in the mood to deal with this right now. At least nothing had gone drastically wrong with cat boy or Danny would have led with that. Not that one bright spot stood for much in this mess. These Miraculous things sounded important, and the Dragon Council was not going to be impressed if they found out he couldn't stop people from misusing magical artefacts.

Especially when he'd gotten a warning from the Oracle twins.

" _What fire?"_

"Okay, look, there was this big deal fashion show in town. My mom was catering it. But it's spitting distance from where we caught cat boy, and the Ninja had already fought someone I'm pretty sure was powered up by our friend with the Butterfly Brooch. I went to warn my mom and things went south."

" _You…. Are you telling me you_ set the building on fire _?"_

"Not intentionally! And the sprinklers put it out anyway. My point is, I kinda ruined the show and Mom sent me back to the shop to get Fu and Gramps for backup. She figures we're gonna need more help—"

" _From what the Ninja was saying, she's not wrong. He won't give details, but he figures something bad's about to go down."_ The wind noise died away; wherever Danny was, he'd finally stopped moving. _"Look, Jake, about Chat Noir. Cat boy. I don't think we have this right. I don't think he's the bad guy here. He was_ scared _of me."_

"You're a ghost. He probably knew he couldn't touch you."

A snort. _"That wasn't it. He could've distracted me by endangering a whole bunch of people's lives, but he never tried it."_

"Maybe _because_ he couldn't touch you and wanted to stay on your good side? If his partner's got this Brooch of Metamorphosis—"

" _The only time he mentioned his partner was when he said he could beat me without them."_

"Right, because apparently his partner's working the show my mom was catering. Until I tried to warn her and wrecked it."

" _Just…double check what your book says about the Cat Ring and the Butterfly Brooch. This Ninja guy said he thought things were gonna turn fast, and…. I dunno, Jake. I want to make sure we're on the right side of this. Something doesn't feel right."_

They couldn't really afford to ignore the Oracle twins' warnings on the basis of _feelings_ , but Jake trusted Danny. "Chill. I'll take a second look. Or make Fu do it." Danny's silence made it clear he wasn't convinced, so Jake asked Danny for identifying landmarks and told him which way to fly to get to the show. If the Ninja had read the situation right, Jake didn't really want him to be the only one on the scene.

Danny hadn't said what had happened with his fight with cat boy—Chat Noir—but Jake could read between the lines. Chat Noir might not have destroyed anything, but he'd managed to give Danny the slip. Jake knew Danny's skills; that would be almost impossible to do alone. But if he'd managed to make contact with his partner….

Jake ducked into the nearest alley and transformed, heading straight for the shop. Whether or not Danny was right, whether or not the Ninja was right, they needed to figure this out. He was the American Dragon. He couldn't keep dragging his feet like this. Angry as his mom had been, she might even ask Haley to help him on this. (Unfortunately, Jake knew that if Haley had already been helping him, the mess at the show wouldn't have happened. _She_ wouldn't have had any trouble sneaking in to go warn their mom about the danger. She was too cute for people to suspect her. It was really annoying.)

He was barely through the back door of the shop when his cell phone was ringing again. "Did you get lost?" he asked, knowing it was going to be Danny.

" _Please tell me you have a cousin in town or something."_

"Uh…."

" _Crud. I should've known. Just grab Fu and Gramps and get down here as fast as you can. Don't, uh, worry about being inconspicuous. You can't make things worse."_

Danny hung up before Jake could ask for details.

Fu brushed the chip crumbs from his chest and pushed away the book he'd been reading. "You and Phantom walk into some planned catastrophe?"

Jake wasn't even sure where to start. "Yo, we need to get down to the gala Mom's catering. Like, now. Something happened. I'll fill in you and G on the rest of the stuff on the way."

Fu stared at him. "Kid—"

"I'm gonna call Haley to be on standby." He hated that he was doing this, but he had some idea of what Danny had been through, and _his_ idea of bad…. "Grab that old book on the Miraculous and bring it."

"Jake? What is going on?"

He hadn't even noticed Gramps appear in the back of the store. "Something…bad," he said. "I don't—"

His cell phone rang again.

Jake answered it without even looking. "Yo, can you spill a few—?"

" _Turn on the news, Jakey."_

He blinked. "Trixie?" He'd been expecting Danny again.

" _News. Now. Like, any local channel."_ And then _she_ hung up.

And then he got a text from Spud. _U want us on Rotwood duty?_

Jake ran for the nearest functioning TV.

It didn't take him long to find out what was up. It was on every channel. After all, it was hard to miss. There was a _dragon_ circling above what remained of the crowd from the fashion show gala.

The camera cut to show the Ninja yelling up at the dragon, who paid him no mind.

"Aw, _maaan_."

* * *

 _6:35 PM_

Adrien was standing on the platform of the metro, waiting to transfer, when he heard about the dragon.

It started as a sudden exclamation by a young woman telling her friends. At first, he'd thought he'd misunderstood, but then he heard pieces of the story from other hushed—and not so hushed—conversations in the crowd. The ruined fashion show. The fire trucks and other emergency vehicles. The dragon that was surely the cause of it all.

Hawk Moth must have recalled Phantom's akuma. He must have found someone else to transform, another soul to twist. Except….

Except Adrien had already seen a dragon, or thought he had, and hearing of one now was proof enough. He'd seen one when he'd been captured by Phantom. Which meant neither Phantom nor the dragon were the ones who had been originally akumatized; it was someone else, someone who had the ability to turn _others_ into fairy tale creatures.

If Hawk Moth had wanted to cause chaos, this was surely the way to do it. Adrien had been able to defeat the Critic, would have managed it even without the Ninja's help, but he couldn't fight multiple battles on multiple fronts without Ladybug. He might be able to bring her back one akuma, if there were some way to capture and trap it, but not one for every magical creature Hawk Moth intended for him to face. He'd have to find the person who was transforming everyone, and he wouldn't have a chance to do that until they showed their hand.

Unless they already had.

Ninjas didn't really count as fairy tale creatures, but they _were_ steeped in legend. The Ninja hadn't seemed like a bad person, but he might not even realize what he'd gotten into. Hawk Moth gave some of his victims more autonomy than others, and if the Ninja didn't even realize he was creating monsters to fight—

No. The Ninja had made no move to get his Miraculous, and even if Hawk Moth had assumed Ladybug and Chat Noir had been left behind in Paris, he'd be quick to make that correction. _Especially_ when Ladybug wasn't here. Hawk Moth might not care about the damage he left behind, but Adrien certainly did, and he suspected Hawk Moth knew that.

If Hawk Moth didn't want him, hadn't counted on him or Ladybug being here, then he wanted something else. Other Miraculous, perhaps. There must be more. He'd think that's what the Ninja had if his costume had made some sort of reference to an animal. Plagg thought other magic was at play, but if it was, how had Hawk Moth found out about it? He knew about the Miraculous, certainly knew more about the Miraculous than Adrien did, so maybe that's all it was. Maybe he _didn't_ know about the other magic here, whatever form that magic took. And if there was another Miraculous in New York City—

He couldn't be sure. Not yet. He'd find out more when he fought to protect the city from the dragon. If he was lucky, the dragon would be as talkative as Phantom had been. And if he was _really_ lucky, the Ninja would turn up again to help him.

Adrien checked the time. His train wasn't due for at least another minute, and there was an attack happening now. He could travel much faster as Chat Noir than as Adrien. He didn't know this city from above, but he knew where he was, and he knew where he was going. That would have to be enough.

Adrien slipped away in search of a place to transform and hoped he'd get there before too much damage was done.

* * *

 _6:41 PM_

There was so much fire.

Randy heaved another Ninja Hydro Hand at the flames licking the pavement and was rewarded with a curtain of steam. (How could stone burn, anyway? That was wonk. What kind of magic _was_ this?) He knew he wasn't out of Ninja Cold Balls yet, but his supply had to be running low.

The smart people in the crowd had run screaming. Too many of them had lagged behind, thinking this was some kind of show. Because fire-breathing dragons were always part of some kind of show. And anyone who could afford to buy something at a fashion show like this had a lot of money, so the people putting on this show had a lot of money, and cool pyrotechnics were almost expected these days.

…Or did people just attend these things and not actually buy something? He really had no idea.

The dragon overhead swooped low, dodged with unfair ease the Ninja Electro-Ball he threw at her (it?), and sent a blaze of fire between him and the crowd, pushing them back.

Randy groaned.

He hadn't looked closely recently, being too busy dealing with the dragon, but he was _pretty_ sure some of the flashing lights he could still see belonged to firetrucks. He was also pretty sure the firefighters hadn't just abandoned their jobs to gawk at the dragon, gawk-worthy as she clearly was.

But he was the Ninja.

Fighting a dragon.

In a place where crazy stunts were more the norm than actual magic.

He had no idea what it would take to convince people that this wasn't a setup and that they were actually in danger. Then again, the dragon hadn't targeted them specifically. Driven them back, yes, but she hadn't pulled any shoob move that would've resulted in some extra-crispy attendees. She hadn't gone after any of the vehicles, trying to make something explode or cause more damage. She hadn't even really done much to the building. She'd mostly just cleared the area in front and, well, focused on him. Which, despite totally being his plan when he'd run after her, was…odd, now that he thought about it.

He went through the motions, calling up another Ninja Hydro Hand, and glanced up.

She was flying lazy circles overhead, expertly avoiding buildings but still managing to catch updrafts when she needed them. She flew like she was an expert at it, like she'd studied it all her life or had a natural skill for aerodynamics. Maybe she studied birds in her free time or something.

She was watching him, her eyes never seeming to flick away from his figure, as if she had some kind of sixth sense and didn't even need to watch where she was going.

He doused the flames.

She dove.

He tossed a Ninja Bee Ball at her before remembering that their stingers probably wouldn't pierce dragon hide, and she set the stone on fire again.

He was hot enough that he was seriously debating the merits of using a Ninja Cold Ball on himself, but at least the mask—or maybe its magic—helped him to withstand all the smoke.

"What do you want?" he yelled at her. She'd flown up out of range of anything he could throw at her— _again_ —and had resumed watching him. Maybe she was just trying to wear him out. Maybe he shouldn't keep putting out the fire. Except then there would be fire, and that would be bad.

At least, when he was fighting robots or monsters, he knew what they wanted. How was he supposed to stop a fire-breathing dragon who didn't seem to have any kind of goal beyond playing with him until he dropped to the ground out of sheer exhaustion? She hadn't said anything. He didn't know if she could even speak or if she'd just spout unintelligible monster gibberish. He'd only heard her roar, which in retrospect had served well when it came to scaring half the crowd away.

He wished it had scared the whole crowd away.

Seriously, people in the place needed to learn when to run.

He wished the Am Drag would come back. This dragon was bigger than the Am Drag, but he could at least fly and catch her. Alternatively, Randy wouldn't mind Chat Noir turning up again. He could clearly get some good height with his baton stick thing, providing he'd managed to find it wherever Randy had dropped it, and if they worked together, they could totally take this dragon down. He seemed to have some idea of what the whole evil butterfly thing was, too.

Honestly, though, Randy would settle for Mr. Mysterious Voice finally _showing up_.

Randy didn't realize he'd gone back to staring at the flames until they were suddenly covered in ice and then gone altogether. He blinked, wondering if he'd thrown a Ninja Cold Ball and somehow immediately forgotten about it.

"Ninja, we need to talk," a familiar voice said from behind him, and Randy turned.

The voice in question belonged to a teenager (just like him) who didn't seem to be holding any weapons (just like him) but whose suit was _definitely_ wonk, even by Randy's standards. The white hair was kinda distinctive, too, and he wasn't wearing a mask, but maybe secret identities weren't as much of a thing in the NYC because of all the people.

Randy pointed upwards. "Dragon."

The boy rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I got that. I wanna know what else you know. Like _why_ there's a dragon."

Randy stared. "You don't find a dragon weird? I mean, that's a real, actual, live, fire-breathing dragon. Emphasis on _fire-breathing_."

The boy looked up and considered the dragon for a moment, who miraculously hadn't decided to dive again and try to fry them both where they stood. Randy decided not to question his spot of good luck. "Yeah," the boy finally said, "I guess you're right about the living part. Unfortunately."

"Wh…how… _what_? Why is _that_ the part you're questioning?" His voice did _not_ climb when he said that. Howard did not have it recorded, so it didn't happen. "I saw a woman get turned into a _dragon_!"

"A woman, huh?" The boy bit his lip and glanced toward the crowd. As if they were the problem and not the dragon. "Yeah, that's kinda what I was afraid of. Um. Let's talk inside." He made a vague gesture toward the building.

Since Randy had a mask over his face, the other boy couldn't appreciate his gaping. "I'm in the middle of a fight!"

The boy shook his head. "You're not fighting. You're being tested. I was watching. The dragon's never gone for the crowd, just made you think that so you'd react. She wants to know what you can do."

Randy crossed his arms. "So why's she not testing you?"

The boy looked up at her again. "Maybe because she already knows what I can do?" he offered, though his words were full of enough doubt that Randy was entirely unconvinced. "This isn't my first time in the city, and I think…. I think I know who she is, and the whole dragon thing isn't normal for her." He said that like it was normal for anybody, but if Randy asked, it would just delay the fight for longer. And the dragon was still watching them. Waiting. He didn't like counting on the fact that she'd keep waiting. The moment he did that was the moment she'd stop and decide to move. And then it really _would_ be a fight, even if Mr. Mysterious Voice didn't think it had been before now. (What kind of shoob stood back to watch a dragon when he could clearly help fight it because he _also_ could do stuff with ice?)

"We need to help her," the boy continued. He looked back at Randy. "Seriously, can we just talk inside or otherwise away from the cameras for, like, two minutes? I really don't want my face plastered all over the news if I can help it."

He was not going to give up on the talking thing, was he? Randy scrubbed a hand over his face. "I can't believe we're getting away with this," he muttered, but he followed the new kid and ran for cover.

* * *

 _6:45 PM_

The darkened suite of his hotel room was quiet, safely away from the chaos of the gala for all that it was so near, but Gabriel had still expected to be able to hear screams from across the street, to hear the wailing sirens and the dragon's roar and the shouts of the failing heroes. Instead, the silence began to stretch, as if everyone were waiting.

When a second hero had run out to join the first, he hadn't questioned Dracona's decision to wait. He had not seen if this new hero had come with hidden friends; neither had she. When she'd decided to tilt her wings and circle again, he'd thought her reconnaissance a wise move. But then she'd let the Ninja and the new hero run off to the relative safety of the evacuated site of the gala, and her only response had to been to bank right, beat her wings a few times, and circle again.

"Why are you not pursuing them, Dracona?" Gabriel growled, clenching his cane tighter. The Ninja had shown more of his hand, but the newest hero…. Gabriel knew nothing of him, aside from his ability to spread ice in a speed and volume great enough to counter Dracona's flames.

" _You wanted information about this city's superheroes."_ He could sense laughter in her response. _"I've gotten a good look at the Ninja and have run into Phantom before. Neither belongs in this city."_

Gabriel let out a slow breath. "Where they belong doesn't matter. They are acting as heroes—"

" _Where they belong matters immensely. You only wanted information on this city's heroes."_

"They are fighting in this city," he answered through gritted teeth. "However temporarily, that makes them this city's heroes."

" _I don't agree. Their loyalty remains elsewhere. Help though they may, the responsibility of the NYC falls on the shoulders of other heroes."_

He should have her writhing in pain for even thinking of speaking to him this way, but she'd be more useful to him if he delayed that method until further pressed. After all, if she still gave him the information he wanted…. "You said you are familiar with this Phantom. Tell me about him."

" _His chosen name is rather explanatory."_

Then again, if she continued to be difficult, he just needed to—

Gabriel frowned. There was no disruption in their connection, but his displeasure wasn't being translated into pain. Instead, he felt laughter, as if she knew precisely what he'd tried to do, and—

" _You unlocked my power,"_ she breathed, _"but you do not control it."_

And then there was nothing. No sensations, no feedback, no knowledge of Dracona's that he could use to further his plan. She was his champion, but she had somehow managed to shut him out.

"Dark wings fall." Something was wrong, something was faulty, something was— "Nooroo, why is this happening?"

The kwami ducked his head. "She is right, master," he murmured. "My magic only served as a key for her latent power."

"Then we'll lock it up again," Gabriel snarled. He had read of many types of magic, but none that would cause a reaction such as this. "We'll see how bold she is once my akuma is recalled."

"I don't think it's that simple, master."

Gabriel bit down on the urge to restrict Nooroo's speech; right now, Nooroo was the only source of information he had. "And why do you say that?"

"I…I don't know if I can contain her magic with mine now that the path is established."

"Her magic." Nooroo would know he was asking for details. The kwami would also know how displeased he'd be if he wasn't given them.

"It's a blood magic, not something that can be taken a—"

"But something that can be used?"

Nooroo hesitated.

That was all the answer Gabriel needed.

The means might be more complicated, but he had need of magic, and if he'd happened to akumatize someone with a direct line to that magic, he'd be a fool not to capitalize upon it. She might not want to give him the information he required, but she'd agreed to the contract, and she couldn't shut him out forever. She had to tell him something.

Even if it was only about herself.


End file.
